


Exchanged

by Justsmile2087



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Slash, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2019-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-26 05:35:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 73,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14993903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Justsmile2087/pseuds/Justsmile2087
Summary: After killing Voldemort at the ministry, but losing Sirius to the veil, Harry finds himself lonely, depressed and ready to give up. An exchange program initiated at Hogwarts has him discovering new ways to view the world around him and gets him help from the last person he expected.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a non-canon, OOC, fanfic. Harry is normally loyal, brave, impulsive, selfless, cheeky and sarcastic. My Harry... he's a little more broken. But I promise to put him back together when I've finished playing with him.

Chapter One

The sun was just setting over little whinging when harry potter dragged himself from the backyard shed covered in cobwebs and dust, one small spider still clinging to the web caught in his eternally messy black hair. He knocked once on the back door and waited patiently for his aunt to open it, before wiping his feet off and stepping inside without a word.

He headed straight to the bathroom, ignoring his aunt's screeches from the kitchen and stripping off quickly he stepped under the tepid spray. He needed to be showered and back in the kitchen cooking dinner before his uncle got home.

Two minutes later, he was in his room pulling on ragged, too big, but clean pants, and a long-sleeved shirt that might have been blue once but was now a washed out grey. He was in the kitchen a moment later, so that by the time his uncle and his cousin got home and barrelled into the kitchen, he was ready to serve up.

"Did you finish that shed, boy?" his uncle glared at him.

"Yes, uncle Vernon, it's all clean and sorted," Harry replied before turning to grab the hot roasting pan from the oven. His uncle grunted, obviously annoyed there wasn't anything to fault him for and Harry quietly dished up large plates for his uncle and cousin, and a smaller plate for his aunt. When they were all busy with their food, he grabbed two slices of plain bread for himself and headed back up to his room.

An hour later, he heard the softer tread of his aunt, then the numerous locks on his door clicking closed and he breathed a sigh of relief before dropping his head in his hands and sobbing quietly. He was so tired. He hadn't slept well since the night at the ministry when he'd finally defeated Voldemort but gotten Sirius killed.

He hadn't heard from Ron or Hermione at all, his uncle was worse this summer than he had ever been, and he was incredibly lonely. Hedwig hadn't come back from the last time he'd sent her off with a letter to Ron, and he'd be worried if Dumbledore hadn't sent a small note saying he was keeping her at Hogwarts for Harry's safety. Voldemort might have gone, but he still had quite a few death eaters still clinging to their loyalty and out for Harry's blood.

He was tempted some days to just hand himself over to them. The prophecy was fulfilled and his part in the war finally played out. He wanted peace now.

His birthday had passed with no fanfare, and no gifts from anyone, including the usual sweets and home cooking he got from Mrs Weasley. His uncle's gift had been to come into his room that night with his belt already in his hand, and give Harry a lashing for each year he had forced his presence on them.

It seemed like everyone had abandoned him, and as angry as he was at them all, he also felt like he deserved to feel this bad for being responsible for the complete screw up at the ministry.

He finally fell asleep worn out from a day of cleaning but jolted from a nightmare about the ministry only a couple hours later. He spent the rest of the night reading some old school book of Dudley's, before starting a new day of acting the house elf.

Summer passed in much the same way, and before he was ready, but weeks after he was done, a note from Dumbledore arrived dropped through the bars of his bedroom window by a large brown barn owl who hooted rudely at him before flying off again, another envelope still tied to its leg.

He'd gotten his school letter from the same owl weeks before but hadn't bothered opening it. What was the point if he couldn't get into London and Diagon Alley to buy the books suggested within?

He was almost tempted to not open this one, but curiosity finally won out and he dragged his body off the bed to retrieve it from the window sill. In the end, all it said was that someone from the school would pick him up from his house tomorrow morning and escort him to the train station, and to please be ready by nine thirty in the morning.

Harry scoffed. He was ready to go now. His trunk with everything but his wand was locked in the cupboard under the stairs. He hadn't done any of his school work or been able to look over his photo album all holidays and it was just luck that his uncle hadn't noticed his wand shoved in the sleeve of his shirt when he was picked up from the station. He'd lied when asked and told his uncle it was locked in his trunk, and since he'd magically locked it at school his uncle couldn't get in it to see if he was telling the truth or not.

He had gotten several lashings with the belt and 48 hours locked in the cupboard with his trunk for that bit of defiance, but his belongings were safe and he got to keep his wand on him, so it was well worth a few days of pain and the indignity of going to the bathroom in a bucket.

The sudden thumping of footsteps on the stairs brought Harry out of his memory and he quickly bunched the letter into a ball before throwing it in the trashcan by his rickety desk. By the time the locks on his door were clicked open, he was lying casually sprawled out on his bed.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" His uncle roared from the open doorway and Harry forced himself not to flinch but sat up slowly to stare at his uncle. He was red in the face and looked close to having a heart attack. Harry smirked to himself at the thought, which only seemed to further anger his uncle.

"Stop smiling you imbecilic little shit!" His uncle spat out and forced his large frame through the doorway and into the room.

"Your Aunt was just sitting in the kitchen, minding her own business, when one of those, those things flew through our window and dropped a letter on her head!"

Harry lost his smirk and pulled back a little into himself when he realized what must have happened. Knowing what was coming didn't make it any easier though, and when the back of his uncle's hand landed across his face he went sprawling across his bed and his vision turned dark for a second.

"What have I told you about those vermin?" His uncle asked, quietly this time which only set Harry more on edge. Things were never good when his uncle stopped yelling.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Vernon. It must have been from the school. They're sending someone to come and get me in the morning, so you don't have to drive me all the way to London for the train. I go back to school tomorrow." Harry answered, hoping the mention of school would stop his uncle from doing too much damage.

"Lucky for you then boy," his uncle said, spittle flying from his lips to land on Harry's arm. He didn't dare wipe it away yet though. "I was going to make you walk."

Harry had no answer for that and wisely kept his mouth shut and sarcastic replies to himself.

"Now it's time for your goodbye gift," his uncle stated, producing a belt from somewhere and giving Harry an evil smile. Regretting having not given in to his sarcasm and at least earning some of the punishment his uncle was about to give him, Harry simply removed his shirt resigned to spending the next week in pain and hiding it.

The next morning, Harry chose to sleep in, ignoring his Aunt's calls to come and make breakfast for her 'Duddykins.' Once he was sure his uncle had headed out to work and Dudley to cause havoc around the neighborhood, he dragged himself to the bathroom, toiletry bag in tow.

The lock on the door was flimsy and wouldn't really stop someone who was determined to get in, but it gave a small modicum of privacy so Harry engaged it before stripping out of his clothes. The boy who looked back at him from the mirror was a shade of what he used to be.

Lack of proper food since he'd been back from school was evident in the way his ribs showed through his chest, each individual bone clearly showing, and in his clavicle standing out so far there were shadows underneath them. He'd managed to keep the little muscle he made playing quidditch simply because he was the Dursleys house elf.

He was pale skinned, but you could barely see that through the red stripes that marred his back, buttocks and thighs, and the whiter scars from years of similar abuse. His face sported a bruise on the one cheek and he flinched at the thought of being unable to simply cover it up and thus pretend it didn't exist.

He snarled at the freak that stared at him with empty green eyes and stepped in the shower. After briefly washing himself down, hissing at the sting of the soap on his back, he looked at the bag he bought in and bit his lip. It'd been ages since he'd used what it contained, but after seeing the damage inflicted on his body, he had a sudden irrational urge to make his own.

He drew a small blade, taken from one of his cousin's old pencil sharpeners and held it to his arm for a few seconds before breathing deeply and pulling it sharply down. He did it several more times until his arm was a mess of shallow cuts and scratches and the water at his feet turned pink.

There, now his body was his own again, to inflict his own sort of punishment on and take over that of his uncles.

Five minutes later he was back in his room and pulling on the best pair of jeans and shirt he owned. The jeans were too big, but a belt around the waist held them up well enough and the long sleeved shirt was long enough that he'd made holes in the wrists and was able to pull it down over his thumbs, ensuring it wouldn't ride up and reveal something he didn't want to.

He snuck his wand up a sleeve, pulled a ragged denim jacket on and made his way down the stairs. His uncle had placed his trunk by the front door that morning, so when the doorbell rang he was sitting on the bottom of the stairs, already exhausted from the morning, in pain from his back and his arms, but ready to go.

His aunt hurried from the kitchen to answer the door and when potter heard the voice that responded to her clipped greeting he flinched and was in the midst of debating whether he should sneak out the back door when the owner of the voice stepped into view.

"Potter, don't just sit there like a useless sack of flobberworms, grab your trunk and move it."

Snape stood there, dressed in muggle clothing but just as imposing in the black suit as he is in his teaching robes. Harry forced a smirk and stood up, forcing back the grimace as the action pulled on the abused muscles in his back and thighs.

"Drew the short straw, huh?" he quipped.

Snape stood there for a minute, face impassive, before barking out "what happened to your face, Potter?"

Harry put a hand up to cup at his cheek where the bruise bloomed blue and green and just stared at Snape.

"Answer me,' he growled when it had been several moments and Harry still hadn't responded. His aunt stepped in then and forced a laugh.

"Oh, the Bo...Harry and his cousin get a little rough sometimes, as boys do. He's fine." She simpered at Snape and he curled a lip in obvious disgust.

"Very well, grab your things Potter and let's move, the taxi will not wait indefinitely."

Harry was so shocked that Snape had come to pick him up in a taxi of all things, that he simply moved towards his trunk without a word and dragged it out the door. He didn't bother saying goodbye to this aunt, and she didn't bother with one either. Minutes later, Snape had thankfully helped him load his trunk into the boot of the taxi as there was no way he could have lifted it without giving away some sort of sign to the pain he was in, and they were on their way.

Neither one of them bothered with speaking, although Harry did catch Snape looking at him with some curiosity that he ignored. Finally, after pulling up at Kings Cross and making their way onto platform 9 ¾, Harry was ensconced in an empty car of the train and Snape had disappeared. Probably to find some Gryffindor's and take points before they'd even earned any Harry thought bitterly.

Just as the train blew its last warning whistle, Harry's carriage door opened and Hermione stuck her head in.

"He's here," she spoke to someone behind and smiled at Harry before stepping in, followed closely by Ron and Ginny.

"Hey mate," Ron grinned and Harry fought back the scowl he wanted to give his friends and instead just continued to look out the window he'd been staring out before they arrived.

"Hey Ron, Hermione, Ginny," he greeted them without turning to look at them.

"Er, how are you mate?" Ron asked as he took the seat across from Harry. Hermione sat next to Ron and Ginny sat down in the seat next to Harry.

"Fine," he answered simply still not bothering to look at any of them.

"You aren't mad at us are you Harry?" Hermione asked and Harry fought back a bitter laugh but was unable to prevent a snort.

"Why would I be angry Mione?" He all but spat out. "I only fought and killed Voldemort, saw my Godfather die because I was stupid enough to fall for a trap, and then spent the holidays on my own with no word from my so-called friends. I'm just peachy."

"Hey," Ron started but was quickly shushed by Hermione.

"He's right, Ron," she started. "But Harry, Professor Dumbledore was worried that our letters could be intercepted and put you in danger. We wanted to talk to you, but we also wanted you safe."

This time, Harry did let out a bark of bitter laughter.

"So let me get this right." He paused and for the first time looked directly at his friends, who visibly startled at the bruise on his cheek. "Dumbledore sent me back to the Dursleys because its supposedly the safest place for me, and yet was still worried that something would happen if you were to contact me?"

When Hermione nodded, then opened her mouth to speak, Harry interrupted her.

"Do I look like I was safe there?" He ground out through his teeth.

"We're sorry, Mate, really we are, but you know how the adults get, how Mum gets, we had to do what we thought was right," Ron spoke up and Harry turned his gaze to him.

"Whatever, ok, I'll get over it, I'm just bitter and still upset about Sirius." Harry said quietly, having had enough of the drama, and going back to staring out the window as the scenery went past.

Obviously uncomfortable with the tension in the room, Ginny excused herself explaining she was off to find Luna, and they all just nodded as she left the room. It was quiet for about five minutes before Ron leaned forward and got Harry's attention.

"So what happened to your face?" He blurted out, grunting as Hermione elbowed him in his side, but she also leaned forwards curious about the answer.

"Nothing, just my cousin and his usual bullshit," Harry lied.

"Harry," Hermione chastised and Harry and Ron shared a look at the typical Hermione response which then lessened the tension in the room and helped everyone settle back into their seats. Having gotten some of his frustration off his chest, even if he'd only let out a fraction of what was bothering him, Harry felt better and the remainder of the train ride was them catching Harry up on what he had missed while locked away at the Dursleys and hypothesising which of the Slytherins would have returned this year, which ones were locked up in Azkaban with their families and which ones had fled the country.

Given that Malfoy hadn't stuck his head in their car with insults and jeers like he had every other year, they were all positive he wasn't coming back this year at least. This knowledge helped raise Harry's spirits further, so by the time he stepped off the train and made his way to the carriages he was in pretty high spirits.

The skeletal horses pulling the carriages and the reason he could see them as explained by Luna pulled him up short a little, but he pressed one hand to the cuts on his arm and rubbed briskly for a few minutes and the sharp sting of it was enough to bring him back out of the melancholy that threatened.

The sorting song was upbeat and spoke something about combining together into one family, rather than four separate houses, but Harry barely took note as his stomach growled in hunger. He'd eaten a couple of pumpkin pasties off the cart on the train, but otherwise hadn't eaten since yesterday and he was famished.

He knew better than to overdo it when the feast appeared though, and instead placed a plain chicken breast and some mashed potatoes on his plate. He ate slowly, letting the words of his classmates wash around him, and everyone seemed content to let him eat in peace. No one asked him what it was like to defeat Voldemort, or where he'd been hiding over the summer, and when it did look like someone's curiosity was getting the better of them he would see Hermione or Ron give them a glare or a kick to the shins and they would go back to eating.

Finally, the feast was over, the last few stragglers finishing the ice cream or tart or slice of cake in front of them and Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and stood up to address the school.

"Welcome back to all," he beamed, allowing his gaze to linger on each table for a few minutes before he continued.

"We may be missing a few people, and each house is victim to the losses, but we have strived through the war that waged and have come out the other side stronger and more united. I've no doubt that most, if not all, have heard the good news and I am happy to also confirm that Voldemort is no more. Thanks to our very own classmate and student, Harry Potter, his reign is over and we are free from the tyranny and prejudices that he bred."

Everyone in the hall turned as one and Harry resisted the urge to duck under the table and instead forced himself to remain stoic and impassive as the staring and whispers increased.

Dumbledore cleared his throat a few times until he had the attention of most of the hall again. Several Slytherins and a few other people dotted about the hall continued to stare at Harry, but he ignored it the best he could and forced himself to listen to Dumbledore as he started speaking again.

"I ask that you all respect Harry's privacy and keep your questions and opinions to yourselves, anything you needed to know is available in last month's special edition of the daily prophet, of which I have several copies if one needs, and the rest is for Harry alone to choose to share."

The hall turned again to stare at Harry and he fought harder to keep his face impassive until Dumbledore cleared his throat again to get their attention once more.

"This year we will be doing something different. In order to further encourage house unity, we will have an exchange program between the houses. Every week for the first term, we will randomly pick people from one house, fifth year and above and swap them with someone from another house. These people will take the bed of the person they swap with for the week and participate in all the classes with their new house."

The hall erupted in a burst of excited or angry muttering and Harry could hear several of the Gryffindor's in his class muttering that there was no way they'd stay in the slimy dungeons, no matter what the headmaster said. Curious about how the teachers felt about this idea, Harry looked up at the teacher's table.

Most of them seemed indifferent to the idea, although Snape was clearly unhappy with the idea if the daggers he was shooting from his eyes was any indication. He caught Harry staring and directed the scowl at him, forcing Harry to retaliate with a smirk of his own.

Realising he had missed some of Dumbledore's speech, Harry forced his attention back to the headmaster.

"This is a compulsory requirement, so if you are one of the few chosen to participate, I suggest you cooperate," Dumbledore stared over the edge of his half-glasses at the students below him.

"This war was exacerbated by prejudice which began in this very school and grew from there, and if it is within my power to prevent another from taking that prejudice and further mutating it to what Voldemort preached, then I will do what I can to prevent it. The first names and house changes will be posted in your common rooms at the end of the week, and I encourage everyone in each house to accept the exchangees and treat them as they would the rest of their housemates.

"Now, I've spoken enough for one night, prefects lead your newest members to their beds and the rest of you, off you trot."

Harry rolled his eyes at the abrupt finish and stood from his seat to follow Ron and Hermione to their common room, surrounded by chattering first years trying to suppress their excitement at being in the same house as Harry Potter, but failing miserably. As soon as he stepped through the portrait of the fat lady, Harry grunted a quick goodnight to his friends and headed up to the quiet of his dorm room.

By the time anyone else came in, Harry's curtains were closed tight in a semblance of privacy and he was sound asleep curled around his pillow, the load upon his shoulders lightened some by simply being back home.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

He gasped awake, drenched in sweat and shivering from the nightmare he'd just been thrown from. His heart beat loudly in his ears and he struggled to pull breath into his lungs. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat, placing his head in his hands and fighting off deep sobs that threatened to overwhelm him.

Sirius's voice still rang in his ears and brought tears to his eyes.

"Damn," he groaned out and punched the pillow next to him in frustration. Just one night of nightmare-free sleep is all he wanted, and he thought if there was anywhere he'd get that peace it was this four-poster bed that felt more like home than anywhere he could think of.

But it hadn't mean enough, and now he was wide awake and he needed a shower. He grabbed his wand from under his pillow and cast a Tempus. It was only four in the morning, but he figured if he was quiet enough he could just sneak out and shower, then go do some homework in the common room until everyone else started to wake up.

Harry grabbed his uniform and school robes, towel and toiletry bag and tread quietly into the bathroom he shared with the rest of his dorm mates. A locking and silencing charm on the door, and wasn't he grateful he could use his wand, and he had some real privacy for the first time in months.

He stripped off his sweat-soaked clothes and moved over to one of the shower stalls, bringing his bag with him and setting it on the floor at his feet. The water came out perfect and he allowed himself a few minutes of just standing under the spray and imagined his dreams washing down the drain with the water, before reaching for his soap and washing. The soap stung his back and his arms, but he closed his eyes to the pain and washed automatically.

There was an itch just under his skin that had him wanting to draw a few more lines into his flesh, but he deliberately turned his back on the toiletry bag and what he had hidden within and just scrubbed a little harder as he washed.

Fifteen minutes was all the time he gave himself, not wanting someone to need the loo and then wonder why the door was locked at four in the morning. He dressed quickly, threw his clothes in the hamper for the elves to take care of and undid his spells on the door.

He walked quickly, but quietly, back to his bed to put away his toiletries and drape his towel over the end of the bed, then grabbed his school bag from his trunk and left the room. The common room was predictably empty, but a low fire burned in the grate.

Harry made his way over to the couch placed closest to the fire and settled himself down in the comfortable cushions before opening his bag and pulling out parchment and a self-inking quill. His Transfigurations textbook from last year followed and he set to work trying to complete the summers homework in one morning.

He managed to finish his Transfiguration, Charms, and part of his Herbology homework by the time other students starting making their way downstairs and he hastily shoved the parchments back into his school bag, leaving out a spare piece and his quill. This he filled out with his needed textbooks for his classes this year to send off as an owl order. Hopefully, he'd get them in the next couple of days and he'd be able to make do with what he had until then.

Minutes later Hermione made her way over to him on the couch and sitting down, she gave him a smile.

"Morning Harry, how long have you been up?" She asked and Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Just a little while," he answered. She looked at him for a few moments and he placed another smile onto his face. Satisfied that he seemed okay, she leaned back into her cushion and cast a Tempus with her wand. When Harry saw the time he grimaced, it was later than he expected and breakfast would be over in less than an hour.

"I'll go wake Ron," he said before Hermione could say something, and standing up he threw his bag over his shoulder before heading for the stairs to his dorm. All the other boys were in different stages of readiness. Neville was pulling on his school robes while trying to simultaneously cast a drying charm on his hair, and Seamus and Dean could be heard talking loudly from the bathroom. Ron however, was still sound asleep, his half-shut curtains revealing a rumbled pajama-clad leg.

Harry headed over and drew the curtains open all the way.

"Hey Mate," he said loudly and when that failed to wake him, Harry leaned over and shook his friend's shoulder. "You'll miss breakfast."

"I'm up, 'm up," Ron shot up and looked out at the room with sleep blurred vision and his hair sticking up on one side. Harry and Neville burst into laughter at the sight and Ron frowned at his friends for a moment before a smile broke onto his own face.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled and stood up to lightly punch Harry on the shoulder. He missed the grimace Harry gave as he turned to grab some clothes from his trunk, but Neville sent him a questioning look which Harry chose to ignore. Minutes later, and all the boys in the dorm were ready to go and stampeded down the stairs and into the common room, which was emptying again as students left for breakfast.

Hermione was still sitting on the couch, although she'd obviously retrieved her own books and such, as her satchel sat beside her, fat with what was no doubt every text she had for the year, and then some. Harry smiled a genuine smile for the first time in months when Ron saw the bag as well and rolled his eyes.

"Well come on you lot," Neville called from over by the door and together they piled from the common room and made their way to the great hall. Although breakfast was usually available from quite early until fifteen minutes before classes began, nearly all the house tables were full of students awaiting their timetables. Harry threw a leg over the long bench and sat before pulling a small bowl of fruit salad towards him and adding some yogurt. The bacon and eggs smelled amazing, but he'd learned his lesson last year when he'd had near constant stomach pain for the better part of a week. It was better if he eased himself into regular meals slowly, and as long as he had something in front of him to nibble on no one asked questions.

It was only a few minutes later when Professor McGonagall came by and passed out their class schedule, giving Harry a small, tight smile as she handed his over. He returned a tight smile of his own and then bent his head over to examine his schedule and discourage her from actually saying something to him. She took the hint and moved on down the table.

"Shit," he groaned when he saw the first class he had.

"Harry," Hermione scolded and Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Sorry, Hermione, but it's Potions first thing and I haven't done the summer homework. Snape is going to kill me." He groaned and crossed his arms over the table to lay his head on them in frustration.

"Why didn't you do your homework, Harry? Even I did it." Ron asked, prodding his friend's arm and smiling at the groan it elicited.

"The Dursleys locked my trunk up as soon as I got there." He explained. "I did some this morning, but I didn't get to the potions essay. I'm doomed."

"Oh, Harry," Hermione seemed scandalized at the thought of not being able to do homework and Harry huffed out a laugh at the tone of her voice.

"Right, well, nothing I can do about it now I suppose," he pushed himself up and threw his bag over his shoulder as his friends did the same. "I'll just have to hope he goes easy with the detentions and I don't end up spending all of my spare time de-spleening newts or something."

Resigned to a miserable morning, the itch under his skin rose to the surface and he fought back the urge to duck into one of the bathrooms and scratch at the skin until it bled. Instead, he chewed the inside of his cheek just enough to give a sharp bite of pain. By the time they'd made it to the Potions lab in the dungeons, his cheek felt bruised, but the itch had passed.

Slowly other students trickled down the passage to stand outside the classroom door, and although there was no bickering and provocation from either the Gryffindor sixth years or the Slytherins, there was still an air of tension. When Professor Snape finally billowed his way past the students to draw his wand and unlock the door, the tension could have been cut with a knife and the muscles in Harry's shoulders were so tight he had cramps shooting up and down his arms.

Professor Snape either chose to ignore it or assumed the Gryffindor's had done something, as he simply glared at all the students as they moved slowly into the room to take places at the tables. Hermione and Ron moved automatically to share a table, and Harry was left standing at a table on his own. They threw him looks of apology, but Harry knew Ron needed all the help he could get, so he couldn't really be angry with his friends. It didn't make standing there on his own feel any less lonely though.

There was surprisingly little difference in the Slytherin attendance, with only Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Malfoy missing from their group. This left all the people but Harry and Zabini still paired off with a partner, and for a moment it looked like Snape might make Harry pair up with the Slytherin. He seemed to think better of it though, and Harry was gratefully left to start the potion without a partner. It meant more work, as he would have to do all the ingredient preparation and brewing on his own, but maybe without Malfoy to throw random things into his cauldron, he'd actually get the occasional potion correct.

"Before you begin your potion, you may bring your summer homework parchments and place them in a neat pile on my desk," Professor Snape stated before waving his wand and bringing the potion they were to be doing up on the board in front of the class. Harry kicked himself for taking a table at the back of the room, he could barely read the instructions from up here, his old prescription not really enough to fix his eyesight anymore. Maybe he should go to Madame Pomfrey and see if she could fix his glasses for him. But then she'd wonder why he didn't get new ones over the holidays, or she might want to do more tests on him, and there was no way that could happen. He would just have to go to the library later and find his own spell to fix his glasses.

In the meantime, he'd keep his head down and do the best he could and hope he didn't blow up the classroom. As the rest of his classmates moved forward to place homework hastily pulled from bags and satchels, Harry ducked his head and busied himself with dicing and slicing what he hoped were the right ingredients.

"Potter," Professor Snape barked not five minutes later, causing him to jump and drop all the newt's eyes in his potion at once, instead of one at a time like the instructions said. He glared up at his professor knowing he had done it on purpose. Why was everyone out to sabotage him? He could do it all on his own thank you very much.

"Your homework, Potter." Snape drawled and Harry found himself flinching before he forced his shoulders back and chest out in the universal sign of defiance.

"I don't have it. Sir." He ground out through clenched teeth but didn't bother to give an explanation, it would be a waste of time and would have no effect anyway.

Professor Snape clenched his jaw for a few moments then barked out "stay after class" before turning his attention back to swiping red ink across the parchments in front of him.

Surprised the professor hadn't taken the opportunity to mock or humiliate him, Harry ignored his friends throwing worried glances his way, and the Slytherins snickering quietly amongst themselves and went back to his potion. By the time the class was over, he had a passable potion safely in an unbreakable vial and his jaw was sore from clenching his teeth the entire time. The bell chimed throughout the castle and as his friends headed out of the room and to their next class, Harry moved further into the room to stand in front of the professor's desk.

Professor Snape waited until the classroom was empty before he looked up from his marking.

"Where is your homework, Potter?" He asked again, and Harry frowned before giving the same response he'd given before.

"Why don't you have it?" Snape ground out, clearly frustrated.

"I didn't get the chance to do it, Sir," Harry replied as honestly as he was willing to.

"Too busy enjoying the adoration of hundreds of fans, and the coddling of that simpering creature you call 'Aunt' to do what was expected of you?"

Harry bit the inside of his cheek again until he tasted blood, "Something like that, Sir," he replied.

"A week's detention Potter, which you begin tonight at seven where you will complete the essay assigned you over the holidays, with an additional four inches added to the length requirement." Harry was surprised at the lenience Professor Snape seemed to be giving him, and it showed in his expression.

"Your homework will still be marked as incomplete and you will be required to maintain an Acceptable grade to continue in my class." That was more like what he expected and Harry shrugged.

"Yes, Sir. May I leave now, I don't want to be late for Charms?" Snape seemed surprised at Harry's placidness and narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"I don't know what you're up to Potter, but I will find out and savior of the wizarding world or not, I will have you expelled if necessary. These students have been through enough distractions and I will not have my classroom blowing up because you're causing mischief and no one is paying attention."

Harry shrugged his shoulders and simply stared at Professor Snape until he waved his hand in a shoo-ing motion. He grabbed his bag from his bench and left the classroom without another word. As soon as he was away from the door all his false bravado crumbled and he stumbled into the wall as the weight of his world crashed down on his shoulders once more.

His vision grew dark for a moment as he allowed the emotions to take over for a minute and he leaned against the wall with his eyes closed to get his breath back.

"Potter? You ok?" Harry lifted his head up so fast it bounced back off the wall behind him and he swore loudly.

Blaize Zabini stood there with a puzzled expression on his face and Harry scowled as he lifted a hand up to rub the back of his head.

"Just fine," he barked out and without another word, he pushed off from the wall and walked away, ignoring the eyes he could feel staring at him until he turned the corner and he was alone again. He rubbed his arm briskly for a second, then forced all emotions back down so by the time he made it to the charms classroom his face was as impassive and expressionless as he could get it.

Ron had saved him a seat and pat him roughly on the back as he sat down, forcing Harry to bite his tongue or shout a word Professor Flitwick wouldn't appreciate. Ron took the grimace to mean Professor Snape had been his usual git of a self and gave his friend a look of sympathy.

"So, how bad is it?" He asked, curious and Harry explained about the essay and the weeks detention.

"Better than it could be then, hey Mate?" Ron smiled at him, but before Harry could respond to Hermione shushed them. He then spent the entire lesson trying to push back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him, so that by the time the bell chimed he was feeling thoroughly dissociated from the world around him.

"Come on Harry, it's lunchtime and we've got Care of Magical Creatures after lunch, better fortify ourselves for whatever Hagrid has for us," Ron grinned at him and Harry stood and followed his friends to the great hall automatically.

Lunch was loud and his table was the loudest. It seemed like all people could talk about was the upcoming house exchange. Most people were speculating on who would get chosen and where they would go, but several of his year mates were busy complaining about the possibility of having a Slytherin in their house and being murdered in their beds. This had some of the listening younger years crying out in fear and Harry just lost it.

"Enough," he shouted and stood up to his full height before leaning over and placing his hands on the table so people couldn't see his hands were shaking.

"This is exactly what Dumbledore was talking about!" He exclaimed. "This... This prejudice that we keep falling into. Look around you, it's not just Slytherins missing from this hall that was here last year, and not all of them were killed but were the ones doing the killing. My Godfather," his voice cracked and he swallowed loudly, "My Godfather was betrayed by a GRIFFINDOR and spent the last years of his life locked up in one prison or another because of that Gryffindor."

"Slytherins aren't the only bad people around. They're all around us in this life, and it is people like you that make them stronger while weakening the people that could maybe make a difference in this world. This exchange program could be good for us, for this school and I for one hope I get chosen to participate so I can get away from the bigotry you spout from your mouth, if only for a week." His whole body was shaking now and sweat poured down his back, stinging the cuts and grounding him in the moment.

"Grow up!" He declared. "There's so much more to the world than this small, insignificant now that you will never experience because your head is shoved so far up your arse your blinded to it."

Hermione made a small noise of disapproval and broke the last little piece of patience he had. He glared at her, then stomped loudly from the hall, his footsteps echoing around the silent, stunned hall. From his seat, at the teacher's table, Dumbledore smiled and stood.

"Hear, hear," he called out before sitting again and taking up his fork like nothing had occurred. Slowly the students came alive again and the tables were filled with loud chatter once more.

Harry meanwhile had run blindly once he'd left the great hall and didn't stop until his lungs burned with the need for oxygen and his legs cramped harshly. He found himself outside the portrait of the fat lady and dropped to the floor to place his head between his knees and draw in ragged breaths.

"You don't look too good, dearie, maybe you should go to the infirmary," the fat lady spoke up from her perch above him and Harry let out a bark of derisive laughter, making her frown at him and huff loudly. Without apologizing, Harry stood and spat out the password. Reluctantly the portrait swung open then left the frame, and Harry climbed through the door.

His heart beat loudly and there was a ringing in his ears, but it was the need to find his toiletry bag that had him stumbling drunkenly up the stairs to his room. He found the bag and pulled the sharpener blade out carefully. He pulled his sleeve up and immediately drew it across his skin, hissing out a gasp of pain as it bit in and drew blood.

Several more on his arm and he switched the blade to his left hand and drew it across his right arm. The cuts here were a little more jagged, angled up rather than straight, but they stung just the same. Eventually, the blade dropped from his fingers to land on the ground at his feet and Harry sat there just letting the peace of nothing but pain wash over him.

It was quite a few minutes later that he finally pulled himself out of the quiet that roared around him and he looked down to assess the damage. He was okay. He'd done a few more than normal, but that's why he used the sharpener blade and not something else, it simply wasn't sharp enough to cause more than superficial damage. The scar on his ankle from the cut he'd had to stitch himself with his aunt's sewing supplies had been enough to show he could easily lose control when using a sharper knife.

Moving into the bathroom, Harry ran water over his arms for several minutes, then conjured bandages to wrap around them. They hurt now, pulsed almost with the pain, and it helped him keep focus on his task even as he felt himself begin to dissociate from the situation. Finally, clean and bandaged he moved back into his room and cast a Scourgify on the blood dotted on and around his bed.

Exhausted but knowing this would be the first place anyone would go to look for him he cast a Tempus. The class had already started, so he moved quickly and left the tower, noticing that fat lady had yet to return to her portrait. Instead of heading to Care of Magical Creatures though, he turned and made his way to the owlery.

It was dark and quiet in here, most of its occupants asleep, and he moved quietly over to a corner to sit and lean against the wall. Finally, he allowed the grey that filled the corners of his vision to take over and placing his head on his bent knees he closed his eyes and checked out for a moment.


	3. Chapter Three

Chapter Three

He had fallen asleep long enough for the nightmares to form into disjointed flashes of green light and red eyes, maniacal laughter and shouted curses when he felt something nip his ear. Jumping awake he heard an indignant squawk and flapping wings and looked up to see Hedwig perched on a beam above him.

"Hey girl," he whispered, "sorry but you scared me." Hedwig hooted like she understood and flew down to perch on the arm Harry offered.

"I've got something for you," he told her while digging through the pockets of his school robes and pulling out his book list and the last of the galleons he had hidden in the bottom of his school trunk. Harry tied it to Hedwig's leg with a piece of string from his pocket and then scratched Hedwig on one of her wings.

"I didn't get the chance to buy more owl treats girl, I'm sorry," he told her and she leaned forward to nip his finger affectionately before taking off to fly out one of the narrow windows set throughout the owlery. Harry sighed deeply as her silhouette slowly disappeared into the horizon and gathered himself together, once again drawing as much emotion as he could down deep into his belly and leaving his face a blank mask.

The setting sun outside let him know just how long he'd been resting for and though he was reluctant to show his face after his outburst in the great hall he knew it was only a matter of time before someone found him, and he'd rather it in more comfortable quarters.

Exiting the owlery, he began the journey back to his common room to find Hermione and Ron and at least pretend to be sorry. He didn't get halfway before a seventh-year prefect stopped him and passed over a small piece of folded parchment before walking quickly away

'Harry, I request your presence in my office at your earliest convenience. The password is ice mice.'

Harry scrunched the paper in his hand and was sorely tempted to just go to bed and pull his blankets over his head. Instead, he turned his feet towards to headmaster's office. Minutes later he was standing by the suit of armor and saying the password.

The armor moved aside and he took a deep breath before stepping onto the bottom stair and allowing it to lift him around and up. He knocked on the outer door to the office and waited for a reply before opening it and stepping in.

"Harry, my boy, how are you?" Dumbledore twinkled at him and Harry fought back a frown.

"I'm fine, professor, I'm sorry about my outburst in the great hall, I sorta lost it," Harry admitted whilst running a hand up the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Not at all my boy," Dumbledore declared. "Everything you said was something they all needed up hear" the old man's eyes twinkled for a moment before turning serious again. "However, you did miss your afternoon classes and dinner, Harry, and your friends were unable to explain where you had gone." He looked over his half-moon glasses at Harry and waited patiently for an answer from the young man.

"I was in the owlery," Harry admitted but chose not to share any more information. He knew he wasn't acting like he should, but it was getting harder to go about like everything was okay and he was exhausted beyond anything he had ever felt before.

When it was obvious that was all he would be sharing, Professor Dumbledore frowned but didn't push for the moment.

"Very well, Harry. I am sure Hermione has taken sufficient notes from class in which you can use to catch up and are awaiting your reappearance impatiently." Harry nodded and turned to open the door.

"I do hope however that you do not allow this behavior to become a habit. Voldemort may be gone, but you still have enemies, and unfortunately, I cannot guarantee they are not habiting the castle right now." At the reminder that he may never be free from the paranoia of enemies everywhere, Harry shrunk into his self and struggled for a moment to get his emotions under control.

The moment was fleeting and Harry could only hope the headmaster had been unable to detect the struggle before he stood tall once more and turned to respond.

"No, sir," he said simply and then left the office without another word. Knowing that the common room would be full at this time of the night and hesitant to face everybody just yet, Harry headed to the library instead. He might as well start researching that spell to improve his glasses.

There were small pockets of students dotted throughout the library, but given it was only the first day of school and many teachers had yet to assign any homework it was relatively people free. The few groups in there raised their head when he entered but quickly looked away before Harry could do much more than frown at a couple people. Once he was certain they would leave him alone he headed over to the charms section and started browsing the books for one that might give up the spell he needed.

A couple hours later and he was seated at a table in an out of the way corner and had several open textbooks spread out around him.

"That was quite impressive," a voice standing just behind him broke his concentration and he jumped before spinning in his chair to glare at whoever interrupted his reading. Blaise Zabini smirked down at him and Harry gave him a black look.

"Are you following me?" He asked and Blaise laughed, a light sound that made the corners of Harry's mouth want to lift up, so Harry frowned deeper.

"No, Potter, I imagine I'm here for the same reason you are," Harry looked at his books and then at Zabini. "I doubt it," he grumbled causing another huff of laughter to erupt from the Slytherin before he moved around the table and took the chair opposite Harry.

"I meant what I said though, it was quite impressive what you did in the hall, even if it was a little loud." Harry shook his head and grimaced.

"I just lost it," he admitted, "they were just going on and on about getting murdered while they slept and it was that or tell them they didn't need to worry about Slytherins 'cause I'd murder them myself. I've got enough people spouting off about me being a psycho killer, I didn't really need to fan the flames with that." Harry admitted self-deprecatingly before looking back at the book before him.

Blaise laughed out loud and several people looked over at them when Madam Pince shushed them from her perch at her desk.

"Sorry," Blaise whispered, clearly not sorry and Harry scoffed out a small laugh of his own.

"So, what are you researching?" He asked and Harry fought the urge to throw himself across the pages set out before him so he couldn't get a look at what he was doing when Zabini bent down to examine one of the open texts.

"Ocular spells?" Zabini questioned. "Are you trying to fix your eyesight or something? 'Cause I find I have to tell you it's almost impossible to fix eyes with magic. There are too many small nerves and things, you could end up blind instead if something backfires."

Harry rolled his eyes at the teen, "I know that" he told him. "I'm not trying to fix my eyes, but my glasses."

"Why not just get new ones, or go to Madame Pomfrey or Professor Flitwick?" Blaise questioned and Harry fought the blush he felt heating his cheeks.

"I just wanted to try and do it myself," he lied, "but I've been here for hours and I still can't find the right spell. I suppose I will just have to go to one of the professors." Harry started packing up all the books and was surprised when Zabini stood to help him gather them up and then silently set about putting his own armload back on the shelves.

"Thanks," Harry muttered when all the books were away and then left the library without another word to the other boy.

By the time he got to the common room most of the younger years had headed to bed, so it was just the older years lounging about on the couches, bean bags and chairs dotted around the room. Someone had obviously snuck down to the kitchens, as several people were sipping on butterbeer and nibbling small cakes. Hermione and Ron were sitting on their usual couch by the fire, sharing the space with Ginny who was reading a magazine with Hermione and Neville who was spectacularly losing a chess game against Ron.

When several of his housemates called out to him as he stepped through the portrait, his friends snapped their heads up from their respective distractions and watched him trek his way across the room.

"That was brilliant, Harry!" Ron declared loudly and Harry grinned, mood surprisingly lifted from his interactions in the library.

"Wasn't planned though," Harry shrugged and took the empty cushion on the end of the couch. "Just went a bit mental."

"While I don't necessarily agree with the way it was delivered, I wholly agree with the sentiment," Hermione offered and Harry smiled at her before bending over to examine the chess board.

"Wow Neville, you're worse at this than I am!" He smiled at his friend and the other boys laughed while Hermione protested at the abrupt change in conversation, but let it go when she saw Harry start to frown again. After two more chess matches with Harry and Neville teamed together against Ron, but still losing, they said their goodnights to the girls and headed up to bed together.

Harry yawned when he reached the room and after grunting a night at all his dorm mates, he climbed into his bed and pulled his curtains around until he was cocooned in the dark and comfort.

He woke, shouting this time, and Ron was standing at his bedside with a worried frown on his face and the other boys were looking at him through their own curtains.

"Sorry," he rasped through a dry throat.

"You okay, Mate?" Ron asked and Harry nodded.

"Just a nightmare, Ron, you know I get them sometimes," he explained and when Ron looked like he was going to push it Harry threw his covers off and climbed from his bed. "Go back to bed, I'll be fine. I'm going to get a drink of water."

Ron nodded and climbed back into his own bed and moments later the room was quiet again as everyone settled back into sleep. Harry walked quietly into the bathroom and threw a locking and silencing charm on the door before he allowed himself to cry out in anguish.

He was so tired of these dreams, why couldn't he just get a moment of reprieve from the guilt and the sorrow that trailed after him in the light of day. Why did they have to follow him into his dreams as well? He washed his face at the sinks and bent to draw some cold water into his mouth to soothe the dry ache that resided there. It didn't help the ache in his chest though, so he unlocked the door and walked back to his bed. This time when he pulled his curtains around his bed he placed a silencing charm around him.

It wouldn't stop him from hearing someone outside the bed, but they wouldn't be able to hear him. Once he was sure the charm was in place Harry cast a Lumos with his wand then pulled his blade out and shimmied out of his pants. His arms were looking a little abused and he wanted to give them a chance to heal a bit, so his thighs would have to do.

He only dragged the blade across the skin once, slowly and carefully, letting the sting wash over him and watching the skin gape open and bubble up with blood before spilling over and creating a small river down the inside of his leg. The skin here was more taught, easier to cut deeper and scar heavier, so the few times he'd cut here were still raised and grey against the rest of his skin and he ran a finger over a few of the scars before putting the blade down and conjuring bandages to clean his newest mark.

Instead of putting the blade back in his bag when he was done, he bent over his bed to grab his robe from the floor and placed it in an inside pocket. Once that was done, he lay down in bed but didn't bother undoing the Lumos. There was no way he was going back to sleep now, not with the memory of his dreams still fresh.

By the time the sun rose and the other boys began to stir, Harry was already up and dressed. He shoved the rest of the parchment from his trunk into his schoolbag and waved goodbye to Ron as the redhead shuffled his way to the shower.

The great hall was thankfully still pretty empty and those that were there were happy to keep staring into their cups of tea or coffee and ignore him. He sat down at the end of Gryffindor table and pulled a slice of toast out of the rack in front of him. It wasn't until Harry saw Professor Snape enter the hall that he remembered he was supposed to go to detention last night, and Harry paled and dropped his toast, trying to sink down into himself so Snape wouldn't see him.

No such luck for Harry, as the professor noted him almost immediately and changed his course to halt in front of Harry.

"You missed detention last night, Potter. I see remembering appointments is yet another failure to add to your rapidly growing list of failures," he stated and Harry felt his cheeks redden in rage.

"Perhaps I thought it a waste of time, Sir, seeing as I've done potions for several years and according to you I still only hold a modicum of the knowledge necessary to advance. How must my potions professor feel knowing he has failed to do his job?"

"Detention for another week Potter and the second week will be with Filch," Professor Snape snarled out. "You will be at my office tonight at seven for your first detention, or I will come and find you and drag you there myself. Understood?"

"Sir, yes Sir," Harry responded and saluted Snape, eliciting another growl of anger from the man before he turned, his cloak billowing out behind him and stormed to the teacher's table. Not hungry after that confrontation but not wanting to give Snape the satisfaction, Harry forced himself to remain where he was and eat a piece of toast.

When his friends stumbled in, Harry was slowly sipping a cup of tea and ignoring the glares being shot down at him.

"Who pissed in his cornflakes?" Seamus asked and nodded discreetly at Professor Snape. Harry and Ron laughed while Hermione spluttered and began a lecture on respect and Harry found himself snapping at her to keep her opinions to herself. She gaped at Harry with such a wounded look that he apologized immediately and felt compelled to explain about missing last night's detention and subsequently getting a week extra.

"When you didn't come back to the common room until late last night, we assumed you had gone. But if you weren't in detention, where were you?" She questioned and Harry found himself looking over at the Slytherin table where Zabini was eating a piece of toast with a knife and fork. Harry smiled at the ridiculousness of such an act and then looked back at Hermione who seemed puzzled by the smile on his face.

"I was in the library, Hermione, looking up some charms," he told her and Ron frowned.

"Blimey Harry, you're not going to go all bookworm on me too, are you?"

"Relax Ron," Harry smiled, "I just wanted to try and fix my glasses. The prescriptions too old and things aren't as clear as they used to be." He told his friends and Hermione looked up from dishing some porridge into a bowl.

"Why don't you just get Madame Pomfrey or Professor Flitwick to fix them, I'm sure they know the necessary spells." She pointed out and Harry smiled at her.

"It was brought to my attention, yes," he told her and she shot him a questioning glance but he ignored it to drain the last of his tea and stand up. Unable to resist, he made sure to shoot what was no doubt an arrogant smirk at Snape who still glared down at his table before telling his friends he'd meet them in Transfiguration.

He didn't want to go to Madame Pomfrey, afraid she'd ask questions or perform more tests, so he made his way to the charms classroom. Minutes later he was strolling from the room with glasses that actually worked and a smile on his face. Flitwick hadn't asked any questions, just happy to share his charms knowledge with a student eager to learn.

Transfiguration was a review from the year before so Harry was able to get away with not having a text yet, and he sat with Neville in Herbology so hadn't even needed his text for that class, Neville was a walking textbook when it came to plants.

They had Care of Magical Creatures again, so he was able to apologize to Hagrid who pulled him into a hug that pulled the breath from his body and then got him to help hand out the nifflers they'd be taking care of for the term.

The rest of the day went past pretty quickly and Harry awaited the moment he'd have to head to the potions classroom with a heavyweight in his stomach. He wasn't able to eat much at dinner, only picking at some roasted vegetables before giving up. When he stood to head to his detention Ron wished him luck and he forced himself to grin despite nausea he was feeling. He really shouldn't have provoked Snape this morning, but he had started it and Harry had had enough of people walking all over him, even if what Snape had said about him being a failure was true.

When he reached the classroom, the door was closed and he briefly squeezed his thigh before knocking.

"Enter," Snape drawled from the other side and Harry opened the door and stepped inside.

"Well, don't just stand there, Potter, sit down somewhere and start your essay. You won't be going anywhere until it's finished." Snape spared him a short glance before looking down at the parchment in front of him and Harry hastily moved to his normal bench and sat down.

He was only a few paragraphs in when he realized he had a problem. Last year's potions text didn't contain half the answers he needed to finish the essay and he closed his eyes and groaned quietly when he realized he would need this year's text to be able to finish. He should have thought of that before coming and borrowed Ron's or something.

"Why don't I hear a quill scratching its inane scribble onto your parchment Potter. You've only been at it for a few minutes, you should still be capable of thought even with the limited brain power you possess."

Harry bit back a sarcastic retort knowing it didn't help the situation this morning and it wouldn't help it now.

"I don't have this year's text." He answered and placed his hand on his thigh to grip it tightly.

"Why, perchance, did you not bring it with you?" Snape asked in a deadly tone of voice and Harry fought a flinch.

"I didn't get to buy any of this year's texts," he spoke sullenly and Snape raised his eyebrow at the tone.

"I understand it was to your benefit to keep you safe in your aunt's home, but why did you not write to one of your foolish little friends and have them pick them up for you?" Snape's eyebrow was still raised and Harry murmured an answer.

"Speak up, boy," Snape persisted and Harry felt himself lose control again but was helpless to stop it.

"Because they didn't think to send any letters to me, and Dumbledore took away Hedwig. I had no one to ask. I spent my summer alone and lonely and no one thought to check and see just how their prophesied one was doing." Harry's chest was heaving with the effort to not scream and Snape opened his mouth to speak.

"Don't, just don't," Harry's voice cracked and he was forced to grip his forearms so Snape couldn't see how much his hands were shaking as he stared defiantly at his teacher and silently dared him to say something belittling. Obviously having not expected Harry's outburst he merely stared at him for several minutes before standing to pull a book from the shelf behind him and walking slowly over to Harry's bench to pass the book over.

"You may use this for now, though I expect it back once you have received your own," Snape spoke evenly and Harry 's tension eased a little.

"I assume you have sent an owl order for your texts?" Snape asked and Harry nodded briefly.

"Very well," and Snape walked back to his desk and continued his reading.

It took Harry several minutes to calm down enough to open the text and actually get back to his essay and he was pretty sure the cut on his leg was bleeding again. For the remainder of his detention, they both remained silent, although Harry could feel Snape staring at him a few times.

'Probably worried I'll snap and start throwing Avada Kedavras around the place' Harry thought bitterly to himself and hurried to finish the essay so he could leave.

It was close to ten when he finished the last paragraph and he stretched out his arms, feeling the sting of his lashes and the pull of too tight muscle. He stood and moved across the room to hand his essay over. Snape barely glanced at him before he plucked the paper from his fingers and gestured with his head that Harry was free to leave. He wasted no time in packing up his unused parchment and quill and left the classroom as quickly as he could, limping just a little from the re-opened cut in his leg. He missed the speculative look Snape gave him.

Tomorrows Potions and detention was going to be excruciatingly awkward.


	4. chapter Four

Chapter Four

The common room was almost empty with just a few students dotted around, and those who knew where Harry had been simply gave him looks of sympathy then went back to what they were doing. Harry headed straight up to his dorm room where he was immediately accosted by Ron.

"You're alive" he declared dramatically, forcing a small smile from Harry. "You were gone for ages!"

"Had to do my summer work, remember," Harry explained and grabbed his pajamas from his trunk to change in the bathroom. When he came back out Ron was already tucking himself into bed, but had left his curtains open.

"Only six more days to go," he said and Harry shook his head.

"With Snape maybe, but I've of a week of detention with Filch after that." Both boys groaned at the thought of spending a week in the caretaker's presence and someone shushed them loudly. Deans voice floated out from behind his curtains reminding them they had classes the next morning and to bloody well go to sleep.

"Sorry," Ron said and smiled at Harry. Harry returned a grin and climbed into his bed, drawing the curtains around him and casting a silencing charm. The room around him was quiet with only the odd shuffling sound or light snore and Harry fell asleep quickly.

When he shouted awake from yet another nightmare he was sweating and his chest was heaving. The panic that had gripped him in sleep still surrounded him and he threw himself from his bed to run into the bathroom just making it to the closest toilet before he vomited.

"Harry?" he heard and looked up from where he was kneeling, head leaning against the edge of the toilet bowl. Neville stood in the doorway, sleep mussed but alert.

Harry managed a groan before he was forced to place his head back in the bowl and vomit again. He heard Neville move into the room and close the door.

"Do you want me to get someone? Ron, or Madame Pomfrey?" Neville spoke quietly as he moved to wet a washcloth at the sinks and drape it over the back of Harry's neck. He shook his head and flushed the toilet, but stayed where he was sitting.

"'m fine," he murmured, "just give me a minute." He dripped with sweat and his whole body had started shivering with shock, but Neville didn't push it and just waited quietly as Harry got himself back together.

It took a few minutes of deep breathing to push the remains of his nightmare to the edges of his mind and stand up and walk to the taps. He turned the cold water on and swirled his first mouthful of water around his mouth and spit it in the sink, then took several more, large gulps of water.

Neville was still standing there, unsure and eyebrows furrowed in worry, but patiently waiting for Harry to tell him what to do.

"I'm fine," he asserted again and forced his body to stop shivering so he could stand up and at least pretend for a minute that he was. "It was just a nightmare."

"Some nightmare," Neville pointed out and Harry shrugged his shoulders and smiled self-deprecatingly.

"They're not usually that bad, guess I must have eaten something I shouldn't," he prevaricated and Neville eyed him silently for a few moments.

"I'm fine," he repeated once more. "Go back to bed, it's the middle of the night."

"Okay, Harry, but I think you should go and see Madame Pomfrey for something. You're obviously not sleeping well and we're all a bit worried about you, mate."

Unsure of what to say to that Harry nodded and left the bathroom, Neville following after. As he climbed back into his bed, Harry turned to look at Neville climbing back onto his own.

"Sorry for waking you," he apologized and Neville gave a small smile.

"It's fine Harry, goodnight."

Harry sat on his bed for several long minutes until he could hear gentle snoring coming from Neville's bed, then he quietly got up and pulled his school cloak on over his pajamas. He left the dorm and headed down to the common room planning to just sit by the fire, but five minutes in and he was practically vibrating from the itch under his skin.

He stepped through the door and into the corridor. The fat lady snorted loudly in her portrait as he closed it over but didn't wake and minutes later Harry was sitting against the back wall of the owlery. It was almost empty, with a lot of its occupants off hunting and a brief look for Hedwig revealed she must be hunting as well.

Harry reached into his robes pocket and pulled his blade out before rolling up the leg of his pajama pants as far as he could. He watched the moonlight reflect off the silver surface for a moment before he placed it to his thigh and sliced into the skin once more. The lingering remnants of a nightmare that would just not leave him cutting as deep as he could with the blade he had, and soon he had a number of cuts to reflect the anger and hopelessness sitting on the surface of the skin.

He watched the blood well up and fall in beads and then a river down his leg and sighed deeply. A few tears tracked their way down his cheeks but he wiped them away angrily before cutting himself one more time.

There was a small puddle of blood beneath him but the cuts on his leg had begun to scab over when Hedwig hooted and swept down to perch on his knee. She hooted in distress and Harry was so numb from experiencing and then suppressing the surge of emotions that he could barely raise a hand to pet her back. She screeched louder and Harry grimaced and swallowed hard.

"I'm fine, girl," he whispered and moved his hand to scratch her wing joint.

She looked at him before moving forward to nip his ear, then shot up to the rafters above him, chittering angrily at him but obviously content enough that her human was well. Back to his senses a little more he realized he didn't have his wand with him and he cursed. It was in the dorm, under his pillow, safe enough but no use to him there. Since he was unable to conjure bandages or clean the mess he'd made on the floor, he rolled his pants leg back down and gingerly stood up.

His leg hurt, but there was no more pain than he was used to, so he took a last look and grabbed his blade from where it had fallen to the stone floor beside him. He'd have to make sure he Scourgified it when he got to his wand and he hoped whoever cleaned the owlery would just assume his blood was from some owl's dinner.

The dorm was still quiet when he returned, so he quickly retrieved his wand from under his pillow and moved into the bathroom. He cast a cleaning charm on his leg, pants, and robe and then conjured yet another bandage to wrap around his leg. Resigned to once more laying quiet but awake in bed until the others start to wake, he pulled his schoolbag onto his bed and started some homework.

When the other boys started stirring Harry quickly got out of his pajamas and into his uniform before shoving the papers he'd been working on into his bag. He was halfway to the door when Ron called out.

"Where you off to, mate?" Harry paused in his stride and smiled at his friends.

"Just going to the great hall. I've been awake for a bit and could kill a cup of tea."

Neville sat up in his bed and looked over to Harry, "you feeling better?" He asked and Harry nodded, whilst Ron frowned.

"What do you mean?" He asked and Harry winced at the questions and refused to look at Neville as he answered.

"I got sick in the night, but I'm fine now," he explained and smiled. Ron's brow furrowed as he looked his friend over. Obviously satisfied enough that Harry wasn't going to drop dead, Ron stood up.

"If you say so," he replied and gathered his own uniform and things for a shower. Neville threw them both incredulous looks but refrained from saying anything and Harry made his escape. The great hall was once again pretty empty and harry gratefully sank into a seat at his house table and poured himself a cup of strong tea from the pot in front of him.

"You look like shit," Blaise sat down in the empty space beside him and Harry gave him a grimace.

"Thanks," he replied sarcastically and continued to sip on his drink.

"You looked like shit yesterday too, and the day before that." Harry just gave him a blank look then continued to ignore the Slytherin until a small potions vial was placed on the table in front of him, its contents shimmering purple.

"It's dreamless sleep," Blaise informed him and Harry frowned.

"And?" Harry asked and finally looked up at Blaise.

"You look like shit" he reiterated and tapped the vial.

"Where'd you get it?" Harry asked, suspicious

"It's from my own stores," he confessed and poured his own cup of strong tea. When Harry continued to just look at him Blaise pushed the vial even closer.

"Look, you're not the only one with nightmares left over from the war. But it would appear that you're the only one stupid enough not to do something about it."

"Hey," Harry protested and Blaise threw him a withering look until Harry was forced to shrug his shoulders in defeat.

"Fine," he stated, "Thanks," and he went back to brooding into his cup in silence. Blaise stayed next to him and sipped on his own drink until the great hall doors opened and Ron and Hermione walked in chatting animatedly with each other, and Ron saw who Harry was sitting with and stopped walking to stare.

Blaise tapped the vial one more time and then stood to walk over to his own house table, sending a smirk over his shoulder when Ron loudly exclaimed, "what the hell, Harry!"

Harry smirked back and picked the dreamless sleep up to slip into a pocket before turning his attention to his friends.

"We were just talking," Harry explained and moved to stand up. Hermione's eyes narrowed and she looked pointedly at the pocket that Harry had just slipped the vial into.

"What did he give you?" She asked curiously and Ron frowned.

"What do you mean what did he give him?" He asked Hermione before turning to Harry. "Did you take something off him? It could be anything Harry!"

Harry fought back to urge to punch Ron in the face and counted to five in his head before answering.

"Not that it's any of your business, but he gave me some dreamless sleep. Said I looked like shit." Hermione frowned at the language but looked over to the Slytherin table with a thoughtful look on her face.

"Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "it's probably poison!" And Harry finally lost his patience.

"It was like a day ago when I told the whole hall to fucking stop this, Ron. I've had enough. Not only has Blaise not done anything to make me think he's anything but sincere in his actions, he noticed what you guys failed to. So, with all due respect, go to hell," Harry spoke, his voice quiet and left the hall, ignoring Ron and Hermione's protests.

He'd just stepped onto the bottom of the stairs when he heard someone shout out. He was thrown backward with such force he flew several feet to hit the wall and his head banged hard against the unforgiving surface of the stones.

His vision grew dark for a moment, but he forced it back by biting hard down on his tongue so that by the time the person who had spoken approached he had his wand in his hand and was staring dizzily but defiantly.

Zacharias Smith stood over him, with his wand drawn and a crazed smile on his face.

"I'm going to do what the dark lord couldn't and finish you, Potter," he spoke and Harry frowned but didn't answer. Instead, he raised his wand and shouted out Expelliarmis. Smith threw up a quick shielding charm and Harry's spell bounced off harmlessly.

"Is that the only spell you know," Smith taunted and threw a cutting hex at Harry, who managed to throw up a shield of his own.

"It's served me ok so far," Harry replied and cast a Bombarda. Smith shielded again, and the hex bounced off to blast a section of the stair posts instead. Harry tried to stand and his vision grew dark again, despite his efforts to fight, and his eyes closed against his will. He was unable to hear what spell Smith shouted, next to the roaring in his ears, but braced himself for whatever it was.

When nothing happened, he opened his eyes to see Ron standing over a fallen Smith with his wand still pointed and a look of shock on his too pale face.

"Blimey," he said simply and Harry found himself laughing which only made him dizzier but once he started he couldn't stop. Ron looked at him worriedly, but by then there were several people crowding around, drawn by all the noise the fight had generated and he turned instead to send someone to get a teacher.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape appeared moments later and while Dumbledore ensured Smith was unharmed before taking his wand and tying his arms up, Snape ushered all the onlookers away with threats of detention. Before long, it was just Harry, Ron and Hermione, Smith and the professors clustered around the stairs.

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore started, "could you shed a little light on what happened?"

"I'm not sure Professor," Harry said, "I was just heading up to our common room and I heard someone shout a spell, then I'm on the floor and looking up at Smith. We fought for a bit, then Ron appeared and took him out. I hit my head, so I was a bit out of it for most of the fight." Harry grimaced at the thought of what could have happened if Ron hadn't shown and threw his friend a grateful look. Ron just shrugged and gave a smile of his own.

"Very well, I would suggest you head up to Madame Pomfrey while the professors and I deal with Mr. Smith here." Dumbledore conjured a stretcher and levitated Smith on it before patting Harry on the shoulder and walking off, professor Snape following after.

"Harry, are you ok?" Hermione appeared from somewhere and threw her arms around his neck ad he groaned as the motion moved his head and he grew dizzy again.

"Oh, Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione let go and stepped back a guilty look on her face.

"It's fine Hermione, thanks to Ron. I think I just have a small concussion, I'll go see Pomfrey and be fine after a few foul-tasting potions, I'm sure." He forced himself to smile through a headache that was setting in and turned to Ron.

"I'm sorry for snapping mate. It's just I really haven't been sleeping well and I guess I'm not as patient as I could be. Thanks for following me, I don't know what would have happened if you didn't."

"No problem Mate," Ron declared and threw an arm around Harry's shoulder. "Now let's get you to Madame Pomfrey." Hermione and Ron escorted him all the way to the hospital wing and were then reluctantly ushered out to go to class.

"Alright Mr. Potter, let's have a look at you," the mediwitch declared and pulled out her wand. Harry fought to not flinch back or even worse, jump off the bed and run from the room.

"It's just my head, madam Pomfrey. Nothing else hurts." He smiled sheepishly, "and I'm pretty sure my heads hard enough that I'll survive."

Madame Pomfrey huffed a laugh and approached the bed to press gentle fingers on the bump on the back of Harry's head and wave her wand in several patterns all around his head.

"Well, it looks like a mild concussion. Easily sorted with a potion or two," Harry grimaced and Madame Pomfrey laughed out loud before Accioing two potions vials from her store cupboard and a small squat jar. She passed both vials over to Harry and watched as he drank then down and visibly shuddered at the flavor.

"Here, this will soothe and shrink that dragons egg you have going at the back of your head," and Harry leaned forward a little for her to gently rub the paste into his head. Minutes later and the last of his vertigo disappeared and he felt less nauseous and sore if a little tired.

"Why don't you lay back for a bit Harry dear, you look like you could do with a rest and you really should be monitored for a little while. You're excused from lessons for the morning. If you can eat and keep down lunch, you can join your classmates in the afternoon classes."

Harry nodded and laid down, grimacing a little as he pushed on his sore head. Minutes later, he'd fallen into a light doze, and Madame Pomfrey moved off to fill out some paperwork.

Lunchtime came sooner than he would have liked, considering he was getting a good dreamless nap, exhausted from the morning events, and Pompfrey woke him with a tray containing a sandwich and soup and a cup of pumpkin juice. Harry was surprisingly hungry for the first time in a while and it was no problem to eat all of what was on the tray. The mediwitch was obviously happy with his efforts and after casting a couple more spells on his head, she let him leave the hospital wing with promises to come back if he became dizzy or nauseous again.

Lunch in the great hall would be just finishing, so harry bypassed going there, knowing he'd just be gawked at. There's no way the gossip vine hadn't already spread the news of his fight this morning all throughout the school. Instead, he grabbed his school bag from his common room and headed down to the dungeons for double potions. He was the first to arrive, so he pulled out the borrowed potions text and started reading ahead.

A few minutes later and more students started to trickle down the passage and Harry stood from his spot on the floor and put the text back in his bag. Ron and Hermione rounded the corner and smiled when they saw him already outside the classroom.

"Harry, you're ok?" Hermione asked and Harry nodded.

"Glad to hear it mate," Ron clapped him on the shoulder, then stood next to Hermione. "Did you hear about Smith?" He asked and Harry shook his head.

"'I've been in the hospital wing all morning, I haven't spoken to anyone but Madame Pomfrey." He explained.

"He's expelled," Ron answered. "Aurors came and broke his wand before they took him out the castle and everything. He was shouting the whole time how you were nothing, and Voldemort would come back again to finish you. He's mad mate!" Ron seemed a little too gleeful at the whole thing and both Harry and Hermione frowned but neither said anything and seconds later the door to the classroom opened and Snape was there telling everyone to hurry up and sit down and stop acting like animals.

Harry grateful for the interruption was the first to enter the room and moved immediately to his bench to unpack his cauldron and get the textbook out again. Potions class went by without any real distractions, and at the end of it, Harry had a passable potion to hand in. As he dropped it off at the professor's desk, Snape looked up from his work.

"Don't forget detention tonight potter, regardless of the days... activities, I expect you in my office at seven."

Harry merely nodded and left the classroom, with his friends tailing after him.

Dinner was exhausting as everyone sitting within hearing distance wanted to ask him about what happened with Smith and Ron was driving him up the wall with the preening he was doing at having saved Harry from the boy. He lasted about ten minutes before he excused himself and left the hall. Hearing all his classmates talk about what happened, and pointing out what could have happened and why, it finally hit Harry that he'd been attacked by a potential death eater or child of a death eater, and he could feel his vision start to tunnel and his breath got caught in his lungs.

He ducked into a nearby toilet and locked himself in a stall before sitting down on the closed toilet seat. He put his head between his legs and tried to draw in air, gasping with each inhale. When that didn't seem to be working he fumbled in his robe pocket and drew out his blade. He quickly rolled his pants leg up and drew the blade across his leg, just once.

The sharp bite shocked his senses and after several deep gasps of air, his breathing evened out a little more and the panic subsided a little. He was tempted to draw more lines into his leg, but deliberately placed the blade back into his pocket and pulled his pants leg down. He stayed there until it was time to leave for his detention just breathing and trying hard not to focus on the day's events.

By the time he walked briskly to Snape's office he felt a little more in control and the panic had receded enough that by the time he reached the office he appeared unruffled. A sharp knock on the door had Snape calling out enter in a low voice and Harry drew a deep breath before opening the door and entering. Snape looked over him for several moments and seemed satisfied with what he saw as he stood and indicated that Harry followed him into his potions storeroom.

"You are to clean this room." He indicated the space around him. "dusting, polishing, mopping." Harry grimaced at the amount of work that would entail but didn't say anything.

When it was clear Harry wouldn't protest Professor Snape waved his wand and produced the necessary cleaning equipment Harry would need and left him alone in the small room. Harry curled his lip but got to work.

The physical labor of moving around the room pulled and stretched newly made and freshly healing cuts, so that by the time he was finally finished not only was he tired and grumpy, but he was limping. As he stepped out of the storeroom and moved towards Snape to let him know he was finished he saw the man's eyes narrow.

"You are limping potter," Snape snarled and Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"Must have hurt it this morning but didn't notice 'til I worked my ass off," he bantered and Snape growled out "five points for language potter."

"I'm done now," Harry merely ignored his professor and placed the bucket of supplies on the floor by the desk. Snape waved his wand and banished the whole thing before turning to Harry.

"I would suggest you make yet another visit to the infirmary before you head to your common room. Curfew is in twenty minutes, so I would hurry if I were you. Wouldn't want another detention on top of the ones you have, now would you?" the way he said it had Harry positive that Snape would be lurking the corridors by Gryffindor tower after curfew tonight to try and catch him out.

Harry just shrugged again and moved to go.

"I will see you at seven tomorrow night potter." And Harry nodded his head without turning, trying to minimize his limping. By the time he made it up all the stairs to Gryffindor tower, then to his dorm room his leg was throbbing, playing out a rhythm of pain with the beat of his heart.

His friends took one look at him and obviously decided it would be wise to leave him alone for the moment and simply mumbled goodnights. He pulled the curtains around his bed and changed into his pajamas, hissing at the pain and looking a little worriedly at his slightly swollen, red thigh. The last thing he did before he threw his robes over the end of his bed was to pull out the purple potion filled vial from one of the pockets.

The next time he dreamt the nightmares were bound to be worse, after today, but he'd worry about that when he needed to. "Bottoms up," he whispered quietly and drank down the contents of the vial before laying down on the bed. He just managed to pull the covers up to his chin when the potion kicked in and sleep took over.


	5. chapter Five

Chapter Five

The next morning found Harry waking up from the best sleep he'd had in ages, so as he dressed and walked down to breakfast with his friends he was smiling and laughing at Seamus and Deans antics as much as Ron was. He helped himself to some bacon with his fruit and happily listened to the conversations going on around him.

When the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, he looked over his shoulder to see Blaise at the Slytherin table watching him. He sent a smile over to the young man before turning his back and trying his best to ignore the feeling he felt low in his belly at Blaise's look.

Moments later the post owls all arrived and a small, speckled brown owl swooped down and landed in front of Harry, its leg out with a small parcel attached. Harry broke off and fed it a small piece of bacon before untying the parcel. The owl greedily finished it bite of bacon and flew off as Harry read the instructions on the front of the parcel to tap it with his wand.

He did so and the small parcel grew into a bigger one and he realized that these must be his school books. Pulling away a small part of the brown paper, Harry checked the top book and smiled.

"Are they your school texts, Harry?" Hermione questioned and Harry nodded and grinned at her.

"Yeah, about time too," he answered and pulled the rest of the paper off to pack the books away in his otherwise fairly empty bag. There were several rolls of parchment and two new quills in the package as well, and these followed his texts into his bag.

The day seemed to breeze by quickly and Harry's good mood remained the whole while. Even his third detention with Snape went by easily, Snape just had him organizing the stores in the room he'd cleaned the night before. However, as Harry pulled the borrowed text out of a robe pocket to return to Snape, his good mood was ruined.

"You will be scrubbing cauldrons tomorrow night, Potter. And as it is a Saturday, I will have plenty of them for you to do, so be prepared to roll your sleeves up and put in some real effort."

Harry blanched at the thought of washing dozens of cauldrons, he would literally have to roll his sleeves up and there was no way Snape wouldn't see his arms. Depressed and anxious once more, Harry merely handed the book over with muttered thanks and silently left the room.

He had to find a way to cover the scars on his arms and he had to do it before tomorrow night.

It was Friday night, so the common room was loud and still full of students despite the time. Someone had brought their radio into the room and the weird sisters could be heard playing through the wireless wizarding network. Someone handed him an unopened bottle of butterbeer as he stepped through the portrait hole and he took it before he moved further into the room. Hermione and Ron were sitting by the fire, surrounded by other fifth and sixth years and although Harry really just wanted to go to bed and pretend to sleep, he instead made his way through the throng of people to sit down on an empty footstool.

"Harry," Ron crowed happily and Harry raised an eyebrow at the exuberance of his friend.

"He's drunk," Hermione explained derisively and Harry nodded in understanding, finally taking note of the bottle of fire whiskey on the table in front of them.

"What's the occasion?" He questioned and Hermione snorted.

"There needs to be one, with this lot?" She asked rhetorically and Harry smiled and shook his head.

"Guess not," he admitted and Ron smiled toothily before taking another sip of the contents of his glass.

"They did post the first house exchange names though," Hermione told him and Harry resisted the urge to jump up right then and look at it. If his name was down, his friends would let him know.

"I'm going to Hufflepuff," Neville spoke up from his seat on one of the chairs close by and Harry smiled at his happy tone.

"I'm happy for you Neville. You belong in Gryffindor, but I know you'll enjoy Hufflepuff." Harry told him and Neville smiled gratefully at his friend.

"But if you're going to Hufflepuff, who's taking your bed?" Harry asked and Ron grimaced, causing Hermione to kick him in the shins and eliciting a shout of protest from the drunken redhead.

"Blaise Zabini," Hermione answered and Harry didn't know how to feel about that. He was starting to sort of like the Slytherin, but he was perceptive and not afraid to butt in where he wasn't wanted.

"It could be worse," he finally commented and Ron shuddered.

"'Course it could. Malfoy could've still been here and could be him we'd be sharing a room with, but it's certainly not the best thing to happen either." he slurred and took another sip from his glass, prompting Hermione to reach over and pluck the drink from his grasp and banish it with her wand.

When he frowned at her she patted him on the leg, "you've had enough, I think. Don't want to have to implore Madame Pomfrey for a hangover potion tomorrow and deal with the inevitable lecture that will bring on."

Rod nodded his agreement enthusiastically and leaned back to rest his head on her shoulder. Hermione ignored him and turned back to Harry.

"How was detention?" She asked.

"Fine, but apparently I'm going to be scrubbing cauldrons all night tomorrow night." At the reminder of the dilemma he faced, Harry frowned and stood up, putting his unopened bottle of butterbeer down on the table next to the bottle of fire whiskey.

"Think I'll head to bed," he said and several people around him shouted out their goodnights, forcing a smile from his lips.

The bedroom was empty, so Harry took a quick shower and climbed into his bed, drawing the curtains around him. He tried laying there quietly for a little while, but when his anxiousness started to rise and the gentle itch that constantly ran over his skin increased in intensity, he threw himself into a sitting position and Accioed his school texts.

When the rest of his dormmates started trickling in and preparing for bed, he was reading his charms book but he stayed quiet and pretended to be asleep. The boys were loud and rowdy for several minutes as they readied for bed, but by the time they were actually in their beds it was only minutes that the room was silent but for gentle snores.

Knowing if he slept he would have a nightmare, Harry settled himself down for a long night of no sleep and continued reading his charms text.

The early morning sun was just starting to filter in through the windows when Harry shot up from where he'd been lying at the end of his bed and smacked himself on the front of his head.

"Glamour charms," he muttered to himself and pulled out his charms text again and started rifling through its pages. There was almost a whole chapter on the different types of glamour charms there were, from cosmetic ones that would cover acne, to the more higher level ones that Aurors would use in the field.

He found several that looked like they might work and quickly pulled his wand out from under his pillow and took his shirt off. The cuts from several days ago were healing well enough, red lines against white and grey older lines, and he resisted the urge to pick at a few of the deeper, itching scabs to bring about a little bit of pain.

Instead, he cast the first glamour in the book and examined his arm. This one wouldn't work, his arm was too smooth and a little too white, anyone looking close enough would know his arm was glamoured and wonder why. He was unable to cast the second option in the books for some reason, and after several unsuccessful attempts, he moved onto the next one.

This time the spell worked brilliantly and he examined his arm. It was intent based, so while he was able to hide away the scars and newer cuts, his arm still had small imperfections in the form of a mole in the crook of his elbow and a small skin discoloration at the edge of his wrist. The only downside with this spell was that it would need to be re-cast every morning and it could be easily undone with a finite incantatum.

Since he didn't think Snape would have a reason to cast such a spell on him, and it was easy enough to cast, Harry settled on using this spell and put his charms book back in his bag. He felt strange looking at his empty arms, they'd been scarred for many years, so he pulled his pajama pants off and got into a pair of jeans and his favorite long-sleeved shirt.

His friends wouldn't rise for a while, given the drinking they'd done the night before, so harry snuck from the room and once again made his solitary way to the great hall and a cup of tea. Blaise was at the Slytherin table and Harry found himself heading over there without conscious thought.

He sat opposite the young man, much as Blaise had done a couple of days before, and poured himself a cup of tea.

"Morning," he said simply and Blaise studied him critically.

"You look like shit again," he said and Harry frowned but then covered it with a smirk.

"You don't have parties in your common room on the weekends?" he asked.

"Are you kidding?" Blaise asked, "Snape sets a curfew and inspects our common rooms and dorm rooms most nights. Doesn't McGonagall?"

Harry shook his head. "Not very often and we're pretty good at hiding stuff we shouldn't have if she does come in. Then she'll just tell us to go to bed and leave again."

Blaise frowned. "What kind of head of house..." He started, but Harry butt in.

"Hey, she does her job just fine. We look after the younger years, make sure they don't touch the drinks they shouldn't and go to their dorms at a decent hour and we're not crazy every day of the week, just the weekends" he protested and Blaise held his hands up in supplication.

"Okay, okay, calm down I meant no harm, I was just surprised. Slytherin is pretty tame in comparison."

Harry just frowned, so Blaise dropped the subject.

"You seemed in a pretty good mood yesterday," he pointed out and Harry smiled.

"Yeah, I took the dreamless sleep and got a full eight hours" he confessed and Blaise gave him a smile of his own.

"Good," he said and then they both sat in silence for a while.

"Did you get a chance to look at the house exchange lists that went up this morning?" Blaise finally interrupted the silence and Harry looked up from where he was drawing pictures with the crumbs from the slice of toast he'd just eaten.

"Yeah, you're coming in and Neville is going out," Harry told the young man and he nodded his head.

"Everyone who was chosen was taken aside last night and we had the sorting hat put back on our head."

Seriously?" Harry asked and gave up playing with his food to focus fully on the Slytherin.

"Yeah, apparently the experiment will work best if we at least go to a house we're compatible with." He confessed and Harry nodded, that explained why Neville was going to Hufflepuff, then his eyes widened in surprise.

"You're compatible with Gryffindor?" his voice raised a little higher at the end of his question and he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment but Blaise just laughed.

"Apparently," he smirked and Harry threw a piece of fruit at him.

"Shut up." He said, "what else happened in the meeting?"

"They told us the rules, which basically boiled down to 'behave yourselves' and had us sign a contract saying we understood. Pretty simple stuff. Then Professor Dumbledore explained we'd start the exchange at dinner tonight when we'd be expected to join our new house table for the meal."

"You're welcome to sit with my friends and me," Harry offered, "although be prepared for Ron to put his foot in his mouth. He basically can't help it at this point," he explained and Blaise laughed.

"Fair enough," he responded and the boys smiled at each other for a moment before Harry excused himself and left the hall, a smile back on his face despite the exhaustion that weighed down on him.

When he got back to his common room, most of his dorm mates were still asleep except for Neville who had probably gone out to the greenhouses, so Harry moved into the center of the room and raised his wand. He cast the spell Fred and George taught him a couple of years ago, and seconds later a loud horn blared from the end of his wand and the boys leaped up, shocked from sleep.

Ron practically fell from his bed in fright and Harry laughed long and loud at the faces everyone was sporting. Seamus groaned and threw his pillow at Harry before throwing an arm over his face and groaning loudly. Dean laughed along with Harry, while Ron picked himself up from his sprawl half on, half off his bed and growled at Harry.

"I am going to kill the twins for sharing that spell with you," he declared which only made Harry laugh harder and curl up to grab his stomach as it started to cramp.

Ron harrumphed and headed for the bathroom, still staggering a little from the drink he'd consumed the night before and Harry's laughter finally died down to light chuckling.

When Ron was ready, they headed to the common room to pick up Hermione and then spent the day outside under the cover of the trees on the grounds, with Dobby providing a picnic basket that never seemed to empty of food.

The day passed peacefully, and soon dinner would begin so they packed up the last of their basket and the blanket dobby had provided and headed inside. All the students participating in the first exchange were stood at the front of the hall in a line when they entered and once everyone else was sitting, professor Dumbledore stood to address the hall.

"Good evening," he began, "tonight marks the first night of our exchange program. These students in front of me are the first to participate and will shortly move forward to take a seat at their new tables. However, before they do, I would like the chance to reaffirm that ALL students cooperate fully in this endeavor. That means not only treating these students with the respect they deserve as students of Hogwarts but treat them as you would your closest housemate."

"Good luck all of you," he finished and waved his hand to indicate that the students could move off. Harry saw Neville move forward to take a seat next to Susan Bones at Hufflepuff table and waited until he looked up to give him a smile. Neville waved back, then turned to say something to Susan, who smiled and shook his hand.

"May I sit here?" Harry heard and looked up to smile at Blaise.

"Of course," he responded and moved over so the Slytherin could throw his legs over the bench and sit.

Ron frowned but didn't say anything, and Hermione ever the peacekeeper leaned over to offer her hand.

"Hermione Granger," she introduced herself and Blaise took the hand offered and kissed the back of it lightly.

"Blaise Zabini," he responded and Harry smiled at their serious expressions and mockingly offered his own hand to shake.

Blaise took it and planted a kiss on the back of Harry's hand as well, causing Ron to splutter in indignation and Harry's face to heat up.

He barked out a shocked laugh and quickly pulled his hand back into his lap and Blaise winked at him before turning and introducing himself to more of the table. Dinner went fairly easily if a little quiet since Ron refused to speak to anyone, and soon they were leading Blaise up to the tower.

"The password at the moment is 'triumph'" Harry explained and the fat lady swung forward to allow them entrance. Blaise stopped in the doorway and stood silently taking in the common room and Harry found himself examining it just as critically.

He'd probably be the first to admit the colors were a little in your face, but with the fire roaring and the mishmash of furniture around the room, it was comfy and cozy and felt exactly like a home should. Blaise moved aside when he realized he was blocking the door and Harry smiled at him.

"Come on, I'll show you where you'll be sleeping," Harry told him and lead him to the stairs, pointing out the girls' stairway and the boys' stairway. Blaise just nodded and followed Harry to the dorm. When they got to the room, Harry showed Blaise Neville's bed, closest to the door to the bathroom and noted that the trunk at the end of the bed appeared to be Blaise's and not Nevilles.

Blaise moved forward to sit on the bed and bounce up and down a couple of times.

"It's softer than the ones in Slytherin," he explained when Harry looked at him with a raised eyebrow. Harry nodded.

"Yeah some of us cast a hardening charm or two on our mattresses. I can teach you if you don't know it."

Blaise just smiled before standing and casting the charm himself. Noise from the common drifted up the staircase through the open door and Harry saw Blaise grimace.

"Like I said, we're a little noisier on a weekend, and with the whole exchange thing, it's even noisier. It'll quieten down soon enough, but we can stay up here if you don't want to face the noise just yet. I'll have to leave for my detention soon though." Blaise looked like he seriously considered crawling onto the bed and pulling the blanket over his head, or crawling under the bed, but forced a smile.

"No, I'm here to do the whole exchange experience, I'll head back down for a little while." Harry just shrugged and led the way down the stairs quietly.

The common room was full. It seemed like all of Gryffindor had packed itself into the room and Harry had to literally wade through people to get to his usual couch. Hermione had kindly kept two cushions available and Harry sat down and grabbed Blaise's arm to pull him down next to him. Someone offered him a glass of fire whiskey and he took it and passed it to Blaise who looked at him dubiously. Harry shook his head when he was offered a glass of his own but smiled at Blaise.

"You wanted the whole experience, remember," he cheeked and Blaise rolled his eyes but took a small mouthful.

"It's not my first drink, Potter," he told him and Harry smiled deeper.

"You're in Gryffindor now, Blaise. Call me Harry," Blaise rolled his eyes again.

"Whatever you say, Harry," and Harry smiled involuntarily at hearing his name roll off Blaise's tongue.

"I'm still 'Weasley'," Ron muttered from his perch on the arm of the couch by Hermione and Harry laughed.

"No one expected any different, Ron," he explained when his friend looked at him with a frown. Ron nodded and then deliberately turned to talk to a pair of fourth years playing a game of chess nearby, but not complaining about Snakes in the Lions' den, which Harry took for a win.

Harry left just before seven to get to his detention on time, stopping into a nearby toilet to re-apply the glamour charm to his arms. When he stepped into the classroom professor Snape nodded his head towards a large pile of cauldrons stacked by the sink and Harry rolled his sleeves up and got to work. It was almost ten by the time he finished and left the room, hands wrinkled and feeling dry from all the soapy water, but all the cauldrons clean.

When he entered the common room, everyone was still there, although they had quietened a bit as they grouped off into separate areas of play or talk. Harry made his way over to his couch and took the empty seat next to Blaise again.

He was talking with a mixed group of students who wanted to know what Slytherin was like, what it was like to sleep in the dungeons and other such questions and Blaise was answering them patiently while sipping on his drink slowly.

Eventually, the crowd thinned out as the younger years headed to bed and the boys were able to relax back into the couch a little more, with their feet up on abandoned footstools.

"Is this a typical Gryffindor weekend?" Blaise turned to ask and Harry shrugged.

"Pretty much."

"How do you do it? How do you study, or find privacy or peace?" He asked and Harry laughed.

"You get used to it for the most part, and weeknights are heaps better. Most times it's just like white noise in the background. And if I really need peace on the weekends, I go up to the dorm and cast silencing charms on the door," he finished cheekily and Blaise gave him a withering look but didn't bother forming a response to the cheek.

He downed the last of the contents of his glass and stood up.

"I'm going to bed," he told Harry and Harry said goodnight and explained that he was going to sit by the fire for a little bit longer.

When Blaise had moved off up the stars, Ron appeared from nowhere and sat down heavily in the seat Blaise had abandoned.

"So is he your new friend then," he asked and Harry could hear the bitterness in his friend's voice but knew he had to be nothing but honest f he wanted to keep his very first friend.

"Ron, you can never understand the joy I felt when you sat down in my compartment on the train and declared us friends. Until that day, I'd never had one." Ron moved to interrupt and Harry shushed him harshly. "Let me finish."

"Up 'til then, Dudley made it his mission to keep me alone and apart from all the kids at school and my aunt and uncle did their best to make me believe I didn't deserve any. But you just decided we'd be friends and that was it. For the most part, you've stuck with me through the shit thrown at me over the years," Ron grimaced at the reminder of his behavior in their fourth year but let Harry keep going without speaking up.

"You were there with me in the ministry, and I have no doubt that without you I wouldn't be sitting here. But Ron, all those years where it was just you and me and Hermione, were years we could have been making even more friends. There are so many great people in this school, but we sort of just closed ourselves off to the idea of making more friends."

"Well, I want that now. I want the chance to meet new people, and make new friends, and I know you want it too. Think about it, you could maybe find someone to beat you in chess," he smiled and Ron let out a small chuckle.

"I suppose you're right Harry. You know I get jealous sometimes, I know it's a huge fault of mine, but it's because we've been through all that I don't want to share you. I almost lost you last year to Voldemort," Ron swallowed deeply on the name, but continued, "and you've been so distant the last week that I feel like I'm losing you now."

Harry felt guilty, he didn't think Ron had really even noticed him being so distant. "I am sorry Ron. It's been a horrible few years, and I'm still raw from the end of last year. I just sometimes need to be alone to sort through stuff. But despite what I may say or do, or not say or do, you'll always be my first and best friend. I couldn't keep going without you," Harry's voice broke and he looked down at his hands, fighting tears that threatened to fall.

Ron swung an arm around his shoulder and drew him into his side.

"Alright mate," his own voice cracked with emotion, "if you want to make new friends, I won't stand in your way. But do they have to be Snakes?" Harry laughed, raw with emotion and punched Ron lightly in the shoulder. The redhead squeezed his arm around Harry once in the semblance of a hug and pulled off to stand up.

"G'night, mate," he smiled and Harry watched him go up the stairs before turning to watch the flames in the fire.

The common room had been empty for a long while and the flames in the fire had died down to nothing but embers when Harry finally stood up and headed up to his bed. He pulled on his pajamas and climbed into the bed, drawing the curtains around. He cast a Lumos with his wand and despite the tiredness that made his body feel like a block of lead, he pulled his schoolbag to him and settled in for another night of no sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the end of what I've posted so far on ff.net, but I expect to have the next chapter finished in a day or two.   
> Justsmile :)


	6. Chapter Six

Chapter Six 

 

Sunday came and went in a blur of exhaustion and Harry had to fight to stay awake during his fifth detention with Snape. He arrived back at the tower minutes before curfew, sweaty and covered in a number of things he didn't want to think about. Snape'd had him pickling ingredients and storing them in jars the entire detention. 

He murmured a greeting to those of his friends still sitting in the common room and headed directly upstairs for a shower. Blaise was sitting on his bed, legs stretched out in front of him, with a book in one hand and a sugar quill in the other. 

"Hey," he greeted as Harry strode over to his trunk and began pulling out his toiletries and pyjamas. Harry paused in his rifling and looked up to give Blaise a wan smile. 

"Hey," he echoed. 

"How was detention?" Blaise asked, putting his book down next to him, but continuing to suck on the sugar quill. 

"Don't ask," Harry grimaced and Blaise laughed. 

"That bad, huh?" He smiled and Harry nodded his head. 

"I need a shower," he whined, causing Blaise to laugh again. Harry smiled a bigger smile and grabbing his things, headed for the bathroom. 

He washed quickly, then stood under the warm spray, letting it run down his back and enjoying the fact it no longer stung to do so. The welts back there were finally healing, and Harry enjoyed the improvement that had on his ability to move. No more muscle twinges or painful grimaces whenever anyone slapped him on the back. 

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply for a while, but when he fell asleep for a few seconds, he quickly turned off the water and stepped out. He dried, re-cast the glamour on his arms, like he'd begun to do every morning and night, and pulled his pajamas on before leaving the bathroom. 

Blaise's curtains were closed now and it was quiet behind them so Harry made sure to walk softly and put away his things with as little noise as he could so he wouldn't wake him. He climbed onto his bed and pulled the curtains around, making sure to cast the silencing spell before he placed his wand under his pillow. 

He grabbed his potions text that sat nearby and settled down to read. It wasn't long before his eyes began to droop, and the words started to blur on the page. Minutes later, the text fell from his fingers and he'd fallen asleep for the first time in days. 

 

 

Harry woke with a scream and a gasp of breath and tore the curtains aside to blindly stumble to the bathroom. He collapsed to his knees and violently vomited into the closest toilet before falling onto his backside and dragging his knees to his chest to hide his head and sob. 

When he felt a hand on his shoulder, he flinched and scuttled backwards to squeeze himself between the toilet and the cubicle wall and he hear someone swear. He tried his hardest to draw air into his lungs but was forced to lean over and vomit into the toilet once more. 

It was long minutes later that he finally calmed down enough to close the toilet lid and flush, before he sat back in his corner and hid his head in his knees again. 

"Harry?" He heard someone call his name and he bit back a sob, then forced himself to look up. Blaise was crouched by the stall door, holding out Harry's glasses. Harry took them gratefully and swiped at the tears still flowing from his eyes before he put them on. 

He watched Blaise watching him, but there was nothing he could really say at that moment and he was pretty sure if he opened his mouth he'd vomit again. Blaise eyed him a few moments longer then stood and disappeared. He returned with a glass of water and handed it over to Harry, then sat cross legged in the doorway of the stall. 

Harry's hands shook so much that almost half the glass ended up on the front of his pajamas and the floor, but he eventually placed it to his mouth and sipped on it slowly until it was all gone. Blaise continued to sit quietly, just watching Harry with a worried expression on his face and eventually Harry felt like he should say something. 

"Sometimes my nightmares feel so real, you know?" Blaise nodded but stayed quiet to see if Harry would continue. 

"I'm sorry for waking you," he finally said, and Blaise nodded but offered no platitudes, for which Harry was very grateful. He grimaced when he realized where he had squished himself, then used the top of the toilet to help him stand. Blaise stood also and moved out of the way so that Harry could walk to the sinks and wash his hands and face. 

"I'll get you a dry shirt," he spoke quietly and Harry looked down and finally noticed that his shirt was wet and had several specks of vomit on the front. He grimaced again and nodded, then started to undo the buttons down the front as Blaise used his wand to unlock the bathroom door and step out into the dorm. The fact that Harry couldn't hear him moving around out there let him know Blaise had also cast a silencing charm and he found himself thankful once again for the Slytherins thoughtfulness. 

"Here," he walked back into the bathroom and handed Harry a shirt before turning to close and lock the door again. 

"Thanks," Harry told him and swallowed past the sore throat he had developed. He was probably screaming before he woke, then being so violently ill meant that unless he got something for it, his throat would hurt for a few days. 

He had just pulled his wet shirt off and thrown it in the direction of the laundry hamper when he heard Blaise inhale deeply. Worried he looked down at his arms to see if the glamour on them had faded, but they looked exactly like they should have, so he raised his head again and looked at Blaise questioningly. 

Blaise wasn't looking directly at Harry, but in the mirror behind him, and Harry's heart leapt into his mouth when he realized what he was looking at. His back was reflecting back out into the room and Blaise was getting a full view of years of lashings from his uncle. 

Tempted to just throw his shirt on and not say anything, Harry instead looked at his new friend and implored, "You can't tell anyone." 

Blaise looked at him in shock and shook his head. "I don't understand. Who did this to you? 

Hoping that if he answered some questions Blaise would promise to drop the whole subject Harry answered. 

"My uncle, he doesn't like me very much," he forced a smile and Blaise frowned at him. 

"Don't trivialize this, Harry. This is abuse!" 

"Look, I'm sorry you saw this," Harry gestured to his back in the mirror, "but it's fine. I'm fine. You can’t tell anyone!" He was angry with himself when he felt a tear roll down his cheek, but refused to look away from Blaise. 

"But it's not just the welts, Harry, you're skin and bones!" Blaise protested and Harry shrugged his shoulders. 

"They forget to feed me sometimes too," he explained casually and Blaise threw his hands in the air and started pacing around the bathroom. Harry took the opportunity to pull his dry shirt on over his head and cover up the evidence of years of abuse from his 'family.' 

"You can't tell anyone," he implored again and Blaise stopped in his pacing to stand and stare at Harry again. 

"Why the hell not?" he asked, voice almost too low and Harry fought not to pull back from the tone. 

"Because," he answered. "There's blood wards around my aunts home." Blaise looked shocked but didn't interrupt. "I need to go for a few weeks every summer at least, to keep them working. If they take me from there, then I could put whoever takes me in, in huge danger and I can't," Harry's voice broke on a sob and he took a minute to calm down before he continued. "I can't lose anyone else to that madman's minions." 

"But Harry, the dark lord is gone. Surely you could be safe somewhere else?" Blaise looked confused. 

"Smith got to me here, in Hogwarts, which is supposedly the safest place you can be. I won't risk it." 

Blaise could see Harry was getting worked up again. 

"Okay, I'll leave it. For now," he finished and Harry seemed to deflate in relief. 

"I'll take it," he accepted and move away from the sinks. 

"Look, it's the middle of the night, we're both tired and you just had one hell of a nightmare. I have another vial of dreamless sleep. If we share it, we'll get some sleep, but still wake up in time for class tomorrow." 

Harry nodded and the boys left the bathroom. Harry followed Blaise over to his bed and waited while the boy opened his trunk and pulled out a familiar purple potion. He took a mouthful and then handed the vial to Harry so he could drink the rest of it. 

Without another word, Harry walked back to his bed and fell through the half-torn curtains to land on the mattress. He was asleep moments later. 

 

"What the hell happened to your curtains, Harry?!" Harry woke to Ron's exclamations and reluctantly opened his eyes to look at whatever his friend was yelling about. His curtains had been mostly torn from their rod and hung limply in a bunch. 

"Um..." He started, then shrugged his shoulders, "Guess I had a nightmare?" It came out more like a question and Ron scoffed. 

"Some nightmare mate, you've completely ruined them!" Harry smiled sheepishly and climbed out of bed to grab his school uniform. Ron had given up getting a better answer from his and moved back over to pull his own uniform on. 

"Whatever, just hurry up, I'm hungry and we've slept in." Surprised Harry looked around the dorm and noticed that Seamus, Dean and Blaise's beds were all empty and there was no sign of any of them 

Harry picked up his wand and cast a Tempus, then swore, they had half an hour to get ready, eat and get to class. He was a little upset that Blaise hadn't woken him, but realized pretty quickly that after last night, the boy probably wanted some time alone. 

Fifteen minutes later, he and Ron were at their table in the great hall and Ron was shoveling bacon and eggs into his mouth as fast as he could while Harry buttered and ate half a slice of toast before he gave up on eating. He might have gotten some good sleep last night, but the nightmare was still pretty fresh and pushing down on his arms and thighs wasn't really working that well to ground him. 

He wanted so bad to excuse himself to a bathroom somewhere, pull his blade out his pocket and release some of these feelings, but knew he didn't have time if he didn’t want to be late to class. Potions class to be exact, so that wasn't going to happen. He would just have to muddle through the best he could and hope no one could tell he was a moment away from losing it publicly again. 

They made it to the potions room with seconds to spare and not for the first time Harry cursed Dumbledore and Snape for always scheduling Potions first thing Monday mornings. 

Hermione frowned at them both as they entered the class and Ron smiled at her, chagrined. Harry was about to move over to his own bnch when he heard Blaise call out to him. 

"Come work with me, Harry." Harry hesitated for a second, then moved through the class to stand next to Blaise at his bench at the front of the room. 

"You sure? 'Cause I'm not the best at potions, and I really don't want to affect your grade." 

"It'll be fine," Blaise assured him, "your last two potions were okay and you haven't blown anything up for years." Harry scowled at the teasing, but was grateful that Blaise didn't seem to be treating him any differently after last night, so he let it go. 

Professor Snape entered the room from his office and upon seeing Blaise and Harry sharing a bench, raised one eyebrow but didn’t say anything. 

Class was much easier with two of them working together and both boys were kicking themselves for having not done so earlier. By the end of the lesson, in which Snape had pretty much ignored their bench, they were each able to hand in a vial of potion that seemed to be perfect. Harry's mood had raised as class progressed and Blaise bantered with him, so by the time he was headed to his next class he was smiling. 

Blaise would be following the Gryffindor fifth years to all their classes, but he had Runes with Hermione now, while Harry and Ron had divination. Despite professor Trelawney's attempts at warning Harry of his imminent death, and a developing headache from the incence, Harry's smile remained. 

The rest of the day passed in much the same manner, and after dinner with his friends, Harry made his way to his sixth night of detention. 

"I see you and Blaise are getting on well," Professor Snape commented as soon as Harry entered the classroom and he nodded. 

"Yes, Professor." 

"Well, we can only hope he teaches you some manner whilst he's with you, Potter. Merlin knows those delinquent friends of yours have been unable to." 

Harry bit his tongue until it bled trying not to comment on Snape's snide remark, and when Snape realized he wasn't going to get a response he grinned. 

"It would seem there is already some improvement." 

"Fuck you," Harry mumbled to himself. 

"What was that Potter?" Harry ignored the question and looked around the class for a clue on what he'd be doing this detention. He assumed the large stack of cauldrons piled by the sinks in the back of the room were for him to do, but as he moved to head over there Snape's hand shot out and caught him by the arm. 

"I asked you a question, Potter!" He snarled at Harry, and Harry saw red at the hand pulling on him. 

 

"I said, 'Fuck you,'" he responded, voice low and shaking. "Now get your fucking hands off me," He shoved his arm up roughly, successfully knocking Snape off. Snape took a step back and stared in shock. 

"Who do you think you are, Potter, that you think you can get away with talking to me like that?" Snape's lip was curled and he crossed his arms across his chest. 

"You might have killed the dark lord through luck, and no small skill of the adults around you who were stupid enough to involve themselves, but that gives you no right to think yourself above everyone else!" Snape hissed and Harry's shoulders slumped at the sound of derision in Professor Snapes tone. 

"You're right," he confessed, "without my friends and the people in the order, I wouldn't have defeated Voldemort. I don’t think I'm anyone, I'm no one!" Harry drew in a shuddering breath and spoke over Snape, who had started spluttering at Harry's response. 

"I've done my duty, why can't all you people leave me alone. I fought and I fought, more than you could ever know or understand, and I stayed in it until the end. But it's over now, my part is over now." 

"Just leave me alone, and I'll leave you alone," he stated at last and tried to discreetly swipe at the tears that tracked down his cheeks. 

Professor Snape watched him silently for a few minutes, until Harry started shifting nervously and contemplated just leaving the room, detention be damned. 

"Clean the cauldrons," Snape finally spoke and Harry fought the instincts telling him not to turn his back on the man, and walked over to the sinks. 

"I will be back shortly, Potter, you had better still be here, scrubbing, when I return." With that, Snape left the classroom, robes snapping then billowing out behind him. Harry started cleaning, fighting the dissociation that darkened his mind, and simply focusing on the action of scrubbing something clean. 

When Professor Snape finally returned he had two cauldrons left and his arms were trembling from the effort he'd used. 

"You may go, Potter. I will see you in my study tomorrow night for your last detention with me. Lucky for you, Filch is unable to take students for detention this year, and I do not need you ruining my evenings for another week. You will instead provide me a 25 inch essay on respect, to be handed in a week from now. Do not be fooled, however, if you continue to exhibit any more of this behavior it will result in further punishment." 

Harry shrugged his shoulders dismissively and left the classroom without another word. 

Half an hour later, he was in the shower watching the blood flow pink around his feet and enjoying the sting in his arms. When he finally stepped from the bathroom, all the other boys were in their beds but for Blaise, who simply sat on the edge of his, twirling his wand around his fingers. 

When he saw Harry, he wordlessly offered a vial of dreamless sleep and Harry smiled graciously, taking the offered potion and climbing into his bed before pulling the curtains shut. 

He drank it down and settled under the covers, listening to the sounds of the others in the room until he was pulled down into a deep sleep 

 

The first thing he did when he woke was grimace in remembrance of the night before. He'd lost it again and made a fool out of himself in front of Snape, who would surely make this last night of detention unbearable just because he could. 

He told himself to get over it and after rubbing his arm brisk enough to start bleeding again, he got up to thank Blaise for another night of rest. 

Blaise was exiting the bathroom in just his school pants and Harry paused and watched through wide eyes while the young man pulled a clean shirt on. It wasn't until he'd put his robes on that Harry realized he had been staring and he blushed a deep red. 

Blaise looked up from putting his tie on and grinned widely when he took in Harry's appearance but otherwise ignored it. 

"How did you sleep last night?" he asked and Harry shook his head briefly and swallowed to wet his suddenly dry throat before he could answer. 

"Fine," he croaked, then swallowed and tried again, "I slept fine. Thanks." 

"No problem. I've got a couple more vials left that you can have. My dreams are more settled now, I don’t need them so much any more." Blaise opened his trunk and pulled out two vials of potion. 

"You need to leave a day or two in between taking it though, otherwise it will stop working and you're dreams will end up worse." Harry nodded in acknowledgment and took the vials to place in the top of his own trunk. 

"Come on, lets get some food," Blaise told him and the boys left the dorm room to head to the great hall. 

The rest of the day passed pretty quickly, and Harry was actually able to focus on his classes after a good nights rest and he managed to eat a decent sized portion of food at lunch. By the time dinner came however, he'd lost his appetite and was just picking at what was on his plate. He saw Blaise watching him worriedly, but ignored him until he could excuse himself from the table to head to Snapes office. 

He was sitting at his desk when Harry knocked on the frame, as the door was open. 

"Enter," he told Harry and Harry moved to stand in front of his desk. 

"For your last detention, you will inventory the potions storeroom. I want to know exactly what I have and how much I have of it before you leave tonight. If you break something, or I think something is missing, you will pay to replace it yourself." 

Harry moved into the storeroom and quietly got to work. It was well after curfew when he had finished and Professor Snape had stuck his head in several times to tell him to get a move on. He placed the last jar on the shelf, made a last notation on the scrolls left in the room for him and moved back out into the main room. 

It looked like Snape had finished his own work, as he sat back in his chair with his feet on the desk. He had a book in one hand and what looked like a glass of red wine in the other. Harry stopped short and his mouth fell open at seeing his stern teacher sitting in such a casual matter. 

"You should have been finished an hour ago, Potter," was all Snape said as he lowered his legs and put both the book and the wine in front of him. "Now I am obligated to escort you all the way to the tower myself." 

"You don't have to," Harry started and Snape snorted derisively. 

"An attempt on your life was made not that long ago, was it not?" he asked and Harry frowned but didn’t respond. 

"Come Potter, it is late and I have neither the patience nor desire to have yet another verbal spar with you. Keep your mouth shut and we will have no issue whilst we walk." With that Snape strode from the room without looking to see if Harry was following, and after rolling his eyes Harry moved quickly to fall in behind him. 

Ten excruciatingly awkward minutes later and they were at the entrance to the tower and Snape turned to him. 

"I expect that essay on my desk in one weeks time. If you fail in this task I will be forced to assign further detentions and as I will have to oversee them, be assured they will be as unpleasant as I can make them." 

"yes, sir," harry finally spoke, then waited until Snape had walked off and around the corner before saying the password and stepping into the common room. It was empty and quiet considering how late the hour was and Harry moved through the room and up the stairs. 

When he fell into his bed, he eyed the top of his trunk for a moment and contemplated taking another dreamless sleep but remembered Blaise's warning from that morning. He sighed and picked up a book to read. Guess tonight was another no sleep night.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long update time. I ran out of pre-written chapters and then Real Life hit me over the head with a hot frying pan. I hope to update again before the end of the week.   
> Justsmile :)

Chapter seven 

The rest of the week passed fairly quickly and relatively quietly. Harry used only one of the vials of dreamless sleep Blaise had given him, and spent the rest of his nights awake, or dozing until pulled violently awake from a nightmare. As a result, his essay on respect was finished by Thursday, but it was becoming clear to all that he was not getting the sleep he should.   
When Friday night arrived and the common room was once more filled with students partaking in contraband drinks and food, Blaise made his way over to Harry with a glass of fire whiskey in each hand.   
"Here," he stated, as he practically shoved one of the glasses in Harry's face until he was forced to take the drink or risk wearing it.   
"What's this for?" He asked, but took a sip anyway, coughing a little as the liquid burned a trail down his throat.   
"Two reasons," Blaise explained. "It's my last night here with you obnoxious Lions," he smiled when Harry frowned at him, "and once again you look like shit," he finished.   
"You know, I'm going to develop a complex, you keep saying that to me," Harry pointed out and Blaise laughed before sipping from his own glass.   
"Not likely, you know you're still attractive."   
Harry blushed, but chose to ignore the comment. "I've only used the one vial," he confessed and Blaise frowned at him.   
"You know I gave those to you 'cause you needed a good nights rest, but I assumed you'd use them, see how well they worked, and head to Pomfrey to get some more."   
"I don't want to go to Madame Pomfrey, she'll ask why I'm not sleeping, and it will lead to more and more questions I'm not ready to answer. I'll be fine, the nights I've fallen asleep, the dreams haven't been too bad. I haven't woken you up by racing to the bathroom to vomit again, have I?" Harry asked, conveniently forgetting the new cuts that adorned his arms and thighs.   
"Whatever you say, Harry." Blaise was clearly unconvinced, but left it alone.   
Both boys quietly sat and sipped their drinks until the glasses were empty, and when Ron came over to challenge Blaise to a game of chess, he took the offer. It was late when they finally called it a night, drained their glasses once more and headed up the stairs, calling out goodnight to the few of their friends that remained in the common room.   
Harry had drunk enough whiskey that he was pleasantly buzzed, so he simply laid down on his bed and waved his wand lazily to draw the curtains around the bed. He fell asleep with his wand in his hand and the sound of the other boys readying themselves for bed.   
When he came awake a few hours later, it was with a shout and a burst of flame from the end of his wand. Stunned, and more than a little out of it from the mix of alcohol and nightmare, he was able to cast a quick aguamenti at the fire licking at his curtains before he flopped down on his pillows with a huff of air.   
"Harry?" He heard and he groaned but forced himself to sit back up. Blaise stood by his bed with a startled expression, examining the charred remains of his bed curtains. He didn't say anything about them though, merely sat down on the end of the bed and waited for Harry's breathing to even out.   
"I'm fine, Blaise, just a nightmare." Harry conveniently ignored his still smouldering curtains and rubbed his face with his hands. Blaise conjured a glass of water and handed it to Harry, who took it gratefully and drank it all down.   
"Thanks," he said, then laid back down on his bed, playing his wand through his fingers in agitation.   
"I really think you should speak to someone about these nightmares, Harry, but I won't push now. Just..." Blaise paused to run his hand over his hair, "Just promise me if it gets any worse you will. I don't think the elves will want to keep replacing bed curtains," he finished lightly hoping to get a response.   
Harry huffed out a small bark of laughter before throwing his arm over his face.   
"Okay, Blaise, if they get any worse than they are now, I'll tell someone," he prevaricated, not pointing out that he didn't think they could get any worse than they currently were.   
Blaise nodded and headed back to his bed without another word. Harry lay quietly until he was sure Blaise was asleep again, then got up and headed to the bathroom. He was still conveniently wearing his robes, having fallen asleep in them, so there was no need to search out his blade.   
Several new cuts on his upper right arm later, and he was back in bed but this time sitting up amongst his pillows with a book in his lap and his wand beside him on the bed. When the sun began to rise and peak in at the windows, Harry got up and cast a cleansing charm on his clothes and robe before heading to the great hall for a strong cup of tea.   
He forced himself to eat a slice of dry toast to help combat the mild nausea he felt, then headed back to the common room to sit in front of the fire and read. Ron found Harry and Hermione sitting quietly with their books awhile later and threw himself down beside his friends.   
"Bloody hell, Harry, what happened to your curtains this time?!" He exclaimed and Hermione frowned at Ron before asking.   
"What's wrong with his curtains?"   
Harry blushed and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I fell asleep holding my wand," he explained and Ron laughed loudly.   
"What happened?" Hermione asked again and Ron looked over at her still laughing. "His curtains are all burnt," he managed to snort out before laughing again.   
"Har, har, har," Harry deadpanned, ignoring Ron laughing maniacally, and Hermione covering her mouth with a hand to hide her own smile. Ron had finally settled down when Seamus and Dean made their way down to the common room.   
"Blimey Harry, what happened to your curtains," Seamus blurted out once he caught sight of the trio on the couch and Ron burst into loud laughter once more and he refused to talk to anyone else about it.   
Ron was still snickering every now and then as Harry followed him and Hermione to get their own breakfast, thought it was actually lunch time. He helped himself to another cup of tea and was still sipping on it when Blaise took the empty spot next to him.   
"I think I might miss your common room just a little bit Harry," he confessed and Harry turned to look at him. "Don't get me wrong, I won't miss the noise, or the amount of people that seemed to cram themselves into that garishly coloured common room of yours. I will miss that couch by the fire, and the conversations held while a million other conversations go on around, and even the games of chess with Ron." Blaise smiled and Harry returned.   
"Well, you're an honorary Gryffindor now, aren't you? You're welcome to visit occasionally."   
"Thanks, Harry," Blaise replied, then turned his head when someone shouted his name from the Slytherin table. Daphne Greengrass waved him over and he nodded before holding his hand up to signify for her to wait. He turned back to Harry and clapped a hand on his shoulder, "Guess I'll see you around, Harry," he said and when Harry just nodded he headed over to his friends and sat down at his own house table for the first time in a week.   
Harry saw several people lean over and start talking to Blaise, who laughed and raised his hands in supplication before answering their questions animatedly. Harry smiled at the thought of the things the Slytherin was probably describing.   
That night as he sat amongst his friends in the chaos that was their common room, Harry felt strangely lonely. Hermione sat next to him reading a large book, whilst occasionally looking up to make tutting noises at the people around them. Ron was in a chair just across from him attempting to teach a frustrated Neville the finer points of chess.   
Yet he felt like their was something missing in all the interactions. A personable feeling of closeness that if he was honest had been missing for awhile in the group, but hadn't been able to acknowledge until Blaise had arrived and shown him what was missing.   
"I'm going to bed," he stood up quickly, startling Hermione and causing her to drop her book into her lap. She frowned but didn’t comment at his abruptness, and with the chorus of several 'goodnights' ringing in his ears, Harry headed up to bed.   
He knew it wasn't wise to drink his last dreamless sleep potion now, not when he was yet to reach the bone weary exhaustion he normally reached before he slept, but he just wanted to close his eyes and have time pass him by. He found the vial in his trunk and made sure to change into his pyjamas before he climbed into bed and swallowed the potion down.   
Sunday was spent quietly completing any homework due that week and sneaking down to the kitchens with Ron to pig out on chocolate cake and visit with an over-excited, over-eager Dobby.   
Monday arrived and soon enough he was on his way down to potions, stomach still a little sore from the violent vomiting he'd done when he woke from a nightmare in the early hours of the morning. The cut he'd made on his lower leg was also still tender and there was a nagging refusal to acknowledge that maybe this one was a little too deep.   
It didn't feel right to cut over a healing cut, and as a result he'd needed a new surface area to destroy for a little while. He'd forgotten how easy it was to cut deeply in the fatty, muscled flesh of a calf however, and even with the sharpener blade, he'd cut down to the yellow fatty layer.   
As a result, his calf was bandaged as tightly as he possibly could and he was forced to focus as he walked so he wouldn't limp. Blaise narrowed his eyes at Harry when he paused in the doorway of the classroom and looked back and forth between his old bench and Blaise's at the front of the room.   
"Don't even think about it Harry, come up here," Blaise demanded and Harry heard someone snicker, but when he looked around everyone seemed busy in their own conversation. Harry moved from the doorway and towards Blaise and placed his bag on the bench in front of him before sitting on the stool.   
"How was the rest of your weekend?" Blaise asked and Harry grimaced.   
"Loud," he finally replied and Blaise chuckled, "Yours?"   
"Quiet," Blaise confessed, this time causing Harry to cough out a small chuckle.   
"I bet," he smiled at Blaise and pulled his cauldron and potions kit from his bag just as Professor Snape strode into the room.   
They worked together seamlessly throughout the lesson and the end result was yet another passable potion.   
"I wish I'd had someone like you from the beginning, maybe my potions scores would have been better," Harry confessed as they were packing up their bags at the end of the class.   
"I think just having no one throwing extra ingredients in your potions is helping you immensely."   
"You knew what that git was doing?" Harry asked loudly and Blaise grimaced.   
"Of course we did, Harry, but you know who he was and who his father was. With the war and all the Voldemort supporters in Slytherin, we had to be seen as supportive. I'm pretty sure even Snape knew what was going in his classroom, but his hands were just as tied as ours."   
Harry looked like he was going to continue ranting, but deflated seconds later.   
"Yeah, alright, I suppose you're right. Doesn't make it easier to accept, but I think Snape would have been just as much of an asshole to me even if I'd been some sort of Potions prodigy."   
Blaise laughed and threw his school bag over his shoulder.   
"You're welcome to sit at Slytherin table with me at dinner time, if you'd like. Might as well keep up this inter house unity we've got going on here." Blaise spoke lightly, but held himself tense as he waited for Harry to answer.   
"Sure, that sounds fine, and if I sit with Ron and Hermione at lunch, hopefully they wont complain too much where I'm sitting at dinner. Besides I'm sure all your Slytherin friends want to know just how much exaggerating you did when you told them all about your week." Harry smiled cheekily and Blaise checked him with his hip as they left the classroom, causing Harry to blush at the contact.   
"Guess I'll see you at dinner," he smiled and left Harry standing in the passage outside potions with a silly smile on his face. 

 

He was right, dinner was spent answering questions about the details Blaise had given the night before, but being careful not to give too much away in case someone listening felt like going to the professors and getting their weekend fun stopped.   
That night when Harry went to bed it was with a light heart and a smile on his face. He'd even spent time in the common room getting trounced at chess with Ron and debating the merits of charm versus hex with Hermione.   
However, hours later he was once again bent over a toilet bowl heaving harshly in a silenced bathroom while tears streamed unchecked down his face. The nightmares were getting worse, he wasn't just re-living events he'd been in, but was creating things that never occurred, new horrors that seemed real enough while he was dreaming them that they clung to his memory hours after waking.   
He needed more dreamless sleep, and he needed a way to get it that didn't involve asking someone who would then ask questions.   
The next night found Harry sneaking out of the tower at close to three in the morning, covered in his invisibility cloak and with a spell placed on his shoes to silence them. He made his way unseen and unheard to the hospital wing and paused at the doors to listen before he pushed them open.   
There was only one patient asleep on one of the beds, their curtains half-closed to give a semblance of privacy. Madame Pomfrey's office light was off, and he couldn't see her anywhere, but he paused just in the doors for several moments in case she had an alarm spell on the doors to alert her if they were opened.   
When he had been standing silently for almost ten minutes and no one appeared, Harry moved further into the room and over to the cabinets he had witnessed Madame Pomfrey take potions from. A simple whispered Alohamora had the cupboard unlocked and he pulled the doors open. There were minimal potions here, but he could see one dreamless sleep potion nestled in the back next to a bone mending one, and he grabbed it before closing the door.   
He ran into no one on his way back to Gryffindor, and once he was back in his room he safely stored the vial in his trunk. It was too late to take it now, he'd never be able to wake in time for class, so he settled down on his bed until he could get up and take a shower.   
The next night he was practically vibrating with the thought of having another night of unaware bliss and he went to bed early. He spent some time in the shower, trying to wash his latest cut. It was swollen and red and hot to the touch and he knew It was becoming infected.   
Having cleaned his leg the best he could he dressed whilst still in the shower stall, made sure to re-cast his usual glamour and padded out to his bed. He slept peacefully that night, and woke with a smile on his face. He needed more tonight.   
His friends seemed to see that something was going on with Harry, but since he interacted with them, was talking and eating and doing all his schoolwork, it seemed like they had decided to leave him alone. A part of Harry resented them for finally doing what he had wanted them to do from day one, but most of him just enjoyed the fact they were finally doing it now.   
He spent the afternoon in the library discreetly looking up unlocking charms, and detection and dis-arm alarms so he could access Madame Pomfrey's bigger supply cupboard. Hopefully there would be more vials in there.   
Three o'clock in the morning once again found Harry sneaking his way into the hospital wing, cloak and spells set to keep him hidden. He was right in his knowledge that the bigger supply cupboard had more charms and locks, but with his new found information and determination it was only fifteen minutes later that he was sneaking back out of the hospital wing with several Dreamless sleep potions clenched in his hand.   
Blaise commented on his appearance again the next day and Harry smiled and explained that he'd finally gone to the hospital wing and gotten some dreamless sleep off Madame Pomfrey. Blaise had looked at him then, trying to divine if Harry was being honest, but since he had actually gotten the dreamless sleep from the hospital wing, Blaise seemed satisfied with what he saw on Harry's face and left it alone, merely reminding him to not take it nightly.   
He tried. He really did try to skip a night, but when he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning and woke shouting to find Ron watching him with a worried expression on his face, he knew he couldn't skip a night.   
So to all his friends, he appeared to be sleeping better, and thus eating and participating better in school and house activities, and a bit of the old Harry personality appeared. Blaise was the only one who seemed curious at the sudden change in Harry, but kept his opinions to himself too afraid to lose the friendship.   
A week passed quickly and before harry knew it he had used the last of the potions he had stolen. The cut on his leg had also started to ooze green pus and he knew he needed to get something for it, so as he sat and played chess with Ron in the common room, he planned his next trip to the hospital wing.   
Once again, in the early hours of the morning Harry rose from his bed and pulled his cloak around his shoulders after casting a muffling charm on his feet. The fat lady murmured at the door opening yet seeing no one there, but quickly fell back to sleep.   
He almost ran into Mrs Norris, who seemed to be taking guard at the end of the hall, but after vigorously sniffing the air where Harry stood and not seeing anyone, she soon gave up and wandered off. Harry breathed out the breath he'd been holding and continued on his way.   
The hospital wing was empty of students once more, but Madame Pomfrey's office light was on when Harry silently pushed open the doors. He inhaled loudly before throwing his hand over his mouth and freezing still as the door closed quietly on its hinges behind him.   
When no one appeared at the small amount of noise he had made, he hesitantly stepped forward until he could peer into the office. It was empty and he breathed out a sigh of relief before looking around. There was nothing in the room that seemed like someone could be hiding behind it, and so he figured she must have accidently left the candle burning and moved over to the cupboard.   
He cast the spells he needed to unlock and pulled the doors open. He knew where the dreamless sleep was kept, but took a minute to examine the contents for a healing paste that might help his leg. When he found something that seemed like it would work, he reached out a hand and grabbed it along with another handful of dreamless.   
He closed the cupboard and re-locked it then turning toward the exit almost dropped the vials in his hand.   
Professor Snape stood in front of the doors with his arms across his chest and a large scowl on his face.   
"Come out Potter," he said and Harry flinched beneath his cloak, but did not remove it.   
"Don't be stupid, boy," he growled, "I know it is you beneath that infernal cloak of your fathers, who else would be conceited and stupid enough to think the stores of the hospital wings cupboards were not being monitored. I will not remove myself from my position, and so you are stuck within this room until I am satisfied with your explanation, or I am dragging you to headmasters office to have you expelled." Snape practically spat out his words and Harry felt tears come to his eyes when he realised he truly was caught.   
He pulled off his cloak and forced a defiant expression on his face, belied by the tears still threatening to fall.   
"Come here," Snape snapped out and Harry moved slowly toward the man, vials clutched protectively to his chest.   
"Don't be daft, boy, you will not be allowed to keep what you have stolen."   
Harry shook his head and stopped several feet in front of the imposing man, who then moved forward to snatch the vials from Harry roughly.   
"Not a week ago, several vials of dreamless sleep disappeared from this wing, and now tonight, you attempt to steal more. What on earth are you doing with it all?" Snape asked and Harry replied too quietly.   
"Speak up!" Snape practically roared and this time Harry did flinch.   
"It's for me," he explained, "I've been taking it."   
"Every night?" Snape seemed bewildered and Harry shrugged before nodding.   
"You idiot boy!" He snarled, "Did you not know the warnings that say you need at least a day, preferably two or three, before taking another dose?" When Harry nodded again Snape seemed to go red with rage.   
"You could have killed yourself if you continued," he yelled and Harry looked at him questioningly.   
"I was told it would just stop working," he tried to justify and Snape seemed to turn even redder.   
"Whoever told you that is an imbecile!" He snapped. "While it is true that prolonged use of Dreamless sleep will lower it's efficaciousness, it is the effect it can have on your psyche that is the issue. If you are taking it because of intense, realistic nightmares, which I assume is your reasoning," he paused to look at Harry who nodded once more.   
"Then it will only suppress the dreams whilst it is in your system. Eventually, you would have found yourself hallucinating the contents of your dreams during the daylight hours as the last of the nights potions moved out of your system."   
"This would have worsened until your brain eventually shut down and began to kill you from the inside out!" When he finally finished shouting Harry was white with shock and trembling and Snape seemed to take a small pity on him.   
"Your dreams are your minds way of working through an issue, and where sometimes they seem to be too real, or too frightening, you must not push them away." He explained, finally lowering his tone so he wasn't yelling anymore.   
"Stay there, Potter, I will return these to their rightful place and then I will walk you to your common room. We will discuss your discipline in the morning." Professor Snape gathered the vials together and moved smoothly across the room to cast his own unlocking charms on the cupboard.   
Briefly Harry thought about making a run for it while the doors were unguarded, but there was really nowhere for him to run to that Snape wouldn't simply find him.   
"What is this Potter?" He heard Snape ask and he turned his head to see Snape holding out the antibiotic potion he'd taken.   
"Uh, must have grabbed that on accident, " he shrugged his shoulders and Snape narrowed his eyes at him.   
"They are on different sides of the cupboard and Madame Pomfrey keeps a perfect system. After all, she wouldn't want to grab the wrong potion in an emergency. Now I will ask again, what was this for?"   
Harry was deeply regretting not running while he had the chance.   
"I have a cut on my leg that looks infected," he explained and Snape continued to stare at Harry with narrowed eyes.   
"Take a seat potter and roll up your trouser leg," he said, moving away from the cupboard still clutching the potion. Harry shook his head vigorously and backed up towards the doors. Professor Snape was too quick for him, and cast a locking charm on the door before summoning Harry's wand to himself.   
"I said, sit Potter, do not make me force you," his voice was deadly and Harry moved over to the closest bed and sat.   
Snape was forced to roll Harry's pants leg up himself as Harry sat on the bed and trembled.   
"This is several days old," Snape said after examining the cut. "Why did you not come to hospital wing when it first occurred? Why steal a potion that Poppy would gladly give to you herself?" Harry refused to answer and Snape looked up from his examination of the cut and stared at Harry for several long, mortifying seconds before understanding lit his face.   
"This cut is self-inflicted," he proclaimed and Harry flinched back but did not deny it.   
"I will have to call Madame Pomfrey and have you examined," he told Harry, and for a moment he couldn't breathe through his panic. He shook his head viciously, despite the dizziness that caused but Professor Snape merely summoned his Doe patronus.   
"Poppy, you are needed in the infirmary."


	8. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight  
The long minutes it took for the mediwitch to appear from her rooms situated adjacent to the hospital wing were spent in silence. Nothing could be heard but Harry's laboured breathing as he fought down a panic attack and tried to remember the last time he cast his glamours. He reached down and pulled the thin hospital sheet over his legs.  
Professor Snape watched him carefully, obviously prepared to catch him if he ran, but Harry figured out pretty quickly that the action of running would absolutely scream that he had an issue.  
"What is it Severus, none of my alarms have gone off and I had no one here for the night." Madame Pomfrey finally came shuffling in, still tightening the rope of her dressing gown around her middle.  
"Mr Potter, of course I should have known," she exclaimed as she took in the sight of Harry sitting on the bed, shoulders hunched.  
"It would seem he is the one responsible for your missing dreamless sleep potions, Poppy, and worse, he has been consuming them nightly." Snape explained and Madame Pomfrey gave Harry a troubed look.  
"Oh, Mr Potter," she fretted, "you should have simply asked me for help. I would have provided you with dreamless sleep, and a lighter sleep aid for the nights you could not have it. You could have caused serious damage to your mind!"  
"That is not the only issue I am afraid," Snape spoke to Poppy quietly but Harry still flinched and huddled further under the sheet.  
Madame Pomfrey looked at him worriedly and raised her wand, "Well, what's the issue? We'll give it a fix, then have a dicussion about potions abuse." She looked disappointedly at Harry and waited for Harry to explain what the problem was. When he refused to answer she frowned.  
"Come now, Mr Potter, I wont wait all night. No need to be embarrassed, nothing I haven't seen before I'm sure." When this still failed to give a result she lowered her wand and looked to Professor Snape for assistance.  
Snape scowled at Harry and pulled the sheet from his fingers, so that his leg, and the cut, was revealed.  
"Mr Potter had cut himself." He explained and Harry's breathing sped up again, until his chest was heaving in and out painfully. Madame Pomfrey looked at him, confused about the reaction until Snape spoke again.  
"Intentionally, Poppy," and Madame Pomfrey eyes widened in understanding before she raised her wand and stepped forward to cast several spells at the leg.  
"Well, it's a deep infection Mr Potter, you should have sought help days ago, but don't fret. A small potion and some cream, and your leg will be as good as new." The mediwitch retrieved a small vial and the ointment Harry had tried stealing before and moved back in front of Harry.  
"Drink this now," she handed him the vial and watched as he drank it, then gently rubbed some of the cream into his leg. Harry hissed at the pressure on the infected wound and Madame Pomfrey looked at him sympathetically whilst Professor Snapes' scowl deepened.  
"Harry," she said gently, "I have to ask if there is anywhere else that you have caused harm to yourself?" She looked like the question was hard to ask, and Harry hated that he'd put that expression on one of the few adults he liked and trusted, but couldn't tell her the truth.  
"No, Ma'am," he lied and Snape growled.  
"I don't believe him," he told the mediwitch, "at the very least you should have him remove his shirt for an examination." Harry knew any negative reaction would be his undoing, so with a prayer to whoever was listening that his glamours were still there he shrugged his shoulders.  
"Sure," he said and pulled his shirt of in one smooth move. When he didn't hear gasps of dismay or anger, he figured his glamours were still there and resisted the urge to look down.  
"It's just my leg," he lied, "I cut once 'cause my cousin Dudley's girlfriend did it and reckoned it helped, but I don't know. Maybe I just did it wrong, 'cause it only hurt like hell"  
"Mr Potter, five points from Gryffindor for lanuage," Madame Pomfrey replied, surprising him, but he just shrugged again.  
"Be that as it may, the headmaster will need to be informed about both this incident and your foray into thievery and potions abuse," she explained and Harry, emotionally exhaused from the whole ordeal just nodded his head.  
"As it is the middle of the night, you will remain here under my alarm spells, and we will discuss your options at a more civil time of the morning." Harry resisted groaning and instead laid down and pulled the sheet back up to his chin.  
"Fine," he said and felt the mediwitch transfigure his clothing into standard hospital pajamas, before she moved off into a more private corner of the room to speak with Professor Snape.  
"I don't believe him," Snape stated as soon as he could cast a privacy shield.  
"His arms were clear, professor Snape, and I don't have the proof to demand he fully disrobe. He is almost of age and unless I consider him at risk of serious harm to self or others, my hands are tied. My concern now is his dependency on the Dreamless sleep potion and what that will mean for his sleep patterns now that is has been taken from him." Madame Pomfrey explained and both of them frowned as they thought of the possible repercussions involved.  
"In any case, what I said to Harry just now stands for is also. It is late, and there is little to be done until the morning. I'll ask, if you could, to pop into see the headmaster before he breakfasts, so that he may be involved in any discussions."  
Snape nodded and left the hospital wing with one last glance at Harry, who was pretending to be asleep.  
"I know you're not sleeping, Harry," Madame Pomfrey told him once the Professor was gone, and Harry opened his eyes and sat looking guiltily at the mediwitch. "You cannot have dreamless sleep, but I can give you a light sleep aid potion that should help slow your thoughts and anxiety's down enough to help you fall asleep." She told him and Harry shrugged his shoulders.  
"It's not generally the falling asleep part that's the problem," he told her, but took the light pink potion when she offered it.  
"If you awaken before I return in the morning, you are not to leave that bed, do you understand Mr potter?"  
"Yes, Ma'am," he told her and once again laid down pulling the sheet over himself and curling around his pillow.  
He woke only twenty minutes later, already gagging. He was disoriented from not waking in his bed, and as consequence Madame Pomfrey found him kneeling on the floor a few feet from the bathroom still retching onto the floor.  
"Oh, Mr Potter," her voice strained with indisguised concern, and she rushed forward to banish the sick and help Harry back to bed. She conjured a glass of water, which he took gratefully and then watched him silently as he drank.  
"I take it since you were desperate enough to steal my potions that most nights are like this?" She asked when he'd finally finished the water. Harry nodded and after placing the empty glass on the bedside table, he lay down and pulled the pillow over his face.  
"It is still late, Mr Potter, or very early, if you rather, and I myself need a little more sleep. I would suggest you get some more of your own, but since I am not naïve, I will simply remind you that you must remain in bed until I have excused you from my wing."  
Harry grumbled from underneath the pillow, which Madame Pomfrey took as agreement, and minutes later he was alone again as she returned to her sleeping quarters. She was right, there was no way he was going back to sleep.  
He sat up and eyed the medicine cabinet, sorely tempted to break in and steal a dreamless sleep potion. He'd be caught within minutes of opening the damn thing, but if he was quick enough he could take the potion anyway and be out of it for the next eight hours.  
His eyes widened when he realised the path his thoughts were going down and he groaned aloud before reaching back to tug roughly at the hair at the base of his neck.  
He truly was growing addicted to the potion, and he needed to be careful before he ended up with yet another issue to deal with.  
Harry threw himself back down on his bed and drew the pillow back over his face. He lay like that for hours until he heard footsteps approaching and entering the room, and then heard Dumbledore and Pomfrey talking quietly. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but chose to keep the pillow over his face rather than remove it and try to eavesdrop. It was a couple minutes later when one set of footprints approached his bed and he heard Madame Pomfrey huff.  
"I know you're awake, Mr Potter," she said, before she pulled the pillow from his face and he frowned up at her.  
"How are you feeling this morning?" She asked and he looked at her incredulously.  
"Like shit," he responded impassively and she frowned at him.  
"Language, Mr Potter," she said and he shrugged before apologising.  
"Well, the headmaster wished to speak with you in his office. But before that, we are going to discuss you misuse of potions," she told him and conjured a chair to sit beside his bed.  
"You understand, Mr Potter, how dangerous your actions were?" She asked and Harry shook his head.  
"I didn't know," he implored, hoping she would believe him, "I just thought it would eventually stop working, like when muggles take antibiotics too much they stop being as effective."  
"While it is true, if you had taken it the correct way, that's the only effect you would have suffered, you didn't take it correctly, did you?"  
Harry curled into himself, with his arms around his legs and his knees to his chest, fighting back tears that threatened to fall.  
"I just wanted to sleep," his voice cracked on the confession and Madame Pomfrey looked at him with pity.  
"If last night is a good example, I can understand why. But Mr Potter, what you've done has probably made a bad situation worse, and after the discovery that you've experimented with self-harm, I am hesitant to let you go back to the tower to sleep."  
Harry looked at her with wide eyes and sat up straight.  
"What?!" His voice cracked again, "you can't do that. There's nothing wrong with me, I just have nightmares. Isn't there a different potion I can take, one that's not so bad?" He implored.  
"Where there are certainly other potions that are less addictive and less likely to cause damage to your mind, they are also less effective. If I was to give you one, it would be a potion that simplpy encourages good dreams, rather than bad. It won't work if your mind is too over shadowed by the nightmares you are experiencing." She explained and Harry had to fight back tears once more.  
"I'll try it," he told her once he got himself under control. "Please, don't keep me here." He implored again and Madame Pomfrey regarded him seriously for a moment.  
"Very well, Mr Potter, you may try the potion in your own dorm room, but you will be watched closely by myself and some of the other professors, and if we are unhappy with the results, you will be back here before you can say 'quidditch.'"  
Harry smiled at her and sat back, finally relaxing a little bit.  
"I would also like to recommend finding someone to speak with about the contents of your nightmares, it can be cathartic, and may help you in letting some of them go." When Harry opened his mouth to protest, Madame Pomfry stuck her hand up, silencing him.  
"It can be a friend, a professor, or me, if you wish, and I am not enforcing it, I merely make the suggestion. I would however, like you to try meditating each night before you sleep." She told him and Harry nodded.  
"Since your leg will require a look over, and more cream, you will return here after dinner. I will do your leg, and give you a sample of the sleep aid potion before you head up to your dormitory for the night."  
The mediwitch stood and banished the chair she had conjured before straightening her robes, "Now I do believe the headmaster would like to speak with you."  
Harry gladly got out of bed and put his shoes back on, then waited patiently while Madame pomfrey transfigured his pyjamas back to the robes he'd been wearing the night before, then cast a cleaning charm on both him and his clothes. Harry felt the charm remove his glamours and flinched, inifinitely glad he was covered head to toe before she'd cast that charm.  
"I will see you tonight," she told him and moved off into her office. Harry left the hospital wing and made his way slowly to Dumbledores office.  
Once he got to the familiar suit of armour, Harry realised he hadn't been given the password. However, seconds later, the armour stepped aside and the familiar stairs appeared, spirally silently upword. Harry eyed the armour for a moment, before stepping around it an climbing the stairs. When he reached the outer office Harry could hear voices within, and when he figured out it was Snape in there with the headmaster, he moved forward to place his ear on the door and listen in.  
"I don't like it," he heard Snape say lowly and the headmaster chuckled lightly.  
"It is a viable solution, my dear Severus, and one we have used in the past," Dumbledore responded and Snape growled.  
"Not for years," he all but barked out and Dumbledore chuckled again.  
"Perhaps not, but we will not begin with it, but see how things progress." Harry heard Snape huff out a breath in anger, and then heard footsteps approach the inner door. He stepped back just in time, as Professor Snape pulled the door open roughly and growled out , "We'll see indeed," before he turned and nearly bumped into Harry.  
"Mr Potter, how long have you been standing there listening to things that are not your business?" He snarled and Harry took a step back involuntarily.  
"Come now, Severus, no need to scare the boy," Dumbledore spoke up from behind him as he stood and rounded his desk.  
"I let him up when the castle informed me he was waiting," Harry frowned at that bit of news, but kept quiet, "he heard nothing of consequence."  
Snape scowled at Harry once more, before swirling his robes around him and leaving the office.  
Dumbledore looked at Harry a moment then waved his arm around his office, inviting Harry to enter.  
"Come, Harry my boy, sit, sit, and I'll order us some tea and toast, I'm sure you must be hungry, you missed breakfast."  
Harry shrugged but moved into the room to sit in his usual chair. Professor Dumbledore conjured a tea tray with a full tea service and a plate of buttered toast and scones, then sat in the chair next to Harry rather than behind his desk.  
"Dig in," he told arry, then helped himself to a cup of sweet tea and half a scone.  
Harry served himself a cup of strong tea, but ignored the tea, his heart was doing somersaults in his chest as he worried what this meeting was about.  
When Dumbledore had finished half his cup of tea and all of his scone, he sat back and smiled at Harry.  
"It's unfortunate circumstance that have us meeting today, my boy. I do wish is were unnecessary to have this conversation, but have this conversation we must."  
Harry nervously took a large gulp of tea, the scalding liquid burning his tongue and ironically calming him down.  
"My first question is perhaps my hardest, though I am sure once we have passed that hurdle, things will be a lot easier." Dumbledore leant forward in his chair and looked at Harry seriously, "are you suicidal Harry?"  
Harry spluttered around another gulp of tea and looked at Dumbledore incredulously.  
"What?!" He managed to splutter out, "NO!"  
Dumbledore smiled a smile that did not reach his eyes and leant back into his chair again.  
"You have no idea how glad I am to hear that, my boy," he confessed and Harry felt himself go red.  
"I have been appraised of the situation of course, with the cutting and the abuse of dreamless sleep, but I would like to hear an explanation from you as to what has been happening and why you felt like there was no one to go to for help."  
Harry grimaced. He couldn't very well tell Dumbledore he didn't ask for help because he didn't want years of abuse to come to light, and that his faith in the adults around him was seriously lacking, so instead he shrugged his shoulders.  
"I'm sorry, Harry, but that answer will not do. I am happy to give you a moment to gather your thoughts, but if I am to let you continue going to class, I need to now that you and the other students are safe."  
Harry felt himself grow angry at the insinuation that maybe he might hurt someone else, but deflated quickly when he realised Dumbledore was right. He sort of was losing his mind a little. Harry put his head in his hands and fought back a sob. He stayed like that for several moments, Dumbledore simply sitting quietly and patiently while he figured out what to say. He finally decied what he had told Madame Pomfrey and Snape the night before was good enouugh, he'd just elaboate a little more.  
Finally, Harry took a deep breath and looked up at the headmaster.  
"I've been having nightmares since the ministry," he confessed and Dumbledore frowned but didn't interrupt. "They were alright in the beginning, only happening now and then and not really too bad, but as times moved on they've gotten worse," he explained and paused to consider what he was going to say next.  
"It's like... they've mutated?" It was almost a questions. "Like, they were just about all the things I've faced and stuff, and now they're a composition of fact and fiction and what had been and what I worry will be, and they're so much worse." Harry took a drink of tea and continued, now that he had finally started talking he was finding it hard to stop.  
"I just wanted to sleep without the memories for a little while," he confessed and he could feel tears forming in his eyes. He blinked rapidly to push them back, then bit the inside of his cheek.  
"And the cut on your leg," Dumbledore pushed when it looked like Harry hasd finished explaining about his dreams.  
"I knew a muggle girl who used to do it, said it got out all the bad stuff and made her feel better, and I guess I thought I didn't really have much to lose if I gave it a try," Harry shrugged his shoulder disparagingly and Dumbledore frowned.  
"And how did that go?" He asked and Harry forced his hand to not shake as he took a sip from his cup.  
"Well, I cut too deep, didn't I," he prevaricated and hoped it was enough.  
Dumbledore studied Harry for several long moments, then stood up to move around his desk and take a seat in his chair.  
"Very well, Harry my boy. Madame Pomfrey had already explained to me the methods in which you and she will be using to hopeully aid you in getting a good nights sleep. But befoe you leave, I would like to emphasise that there are several adults in this catsle who wouldm be willing to listen to you, and help you in any way they can. I am one of them, and you are free to see me out day or night." Harry noddedm unsure of what to say and stood up after putting his empty tea cup on th tray.  
"Thanks, Professor," he finally said as he reached the door. He then slipped out and headed to the dorm to get ready for class. When he reached the tower, it was fairly empty so no one questioned him as he masde his way to the shower.  
Standing under the spray with his glamours down, Harry inspected the red, pink and grey lines which decorated his arms and contemplated adding another before he thought better of it. Instead he washed, then dried and dressed, re apllied the glamours and headed to class thirty seconds before the bell tolled.  
"Where have you beed mate?" Ron asked as soon as he slid into the empty seat next to his friends and Harry forced a smile.  
"Finally spoke to Madame Pomfrey about my sleeping problems," he replied shortly and Ron looked at him then clapped him on the back.  
"Bout bloody time, Mate," he said a little loudly, as professor Flitwick frowned in their directin before continuing his lesson. Ron shrugged sheepishly at Harry, and he gave him a small genuine grin before he turned his attenion on the lesson.  
On Friday night, when the newest house exchanges were posted, Harry entered the common room to find Hermione smiling widely at the papers.  
"I'm going to Ravenclaw," she told him happily and he smiled at her.  
"I bet you'll love it, and they'll love you and we will have to fight to get you back," he told her and Hermiones smiled widened.  
Ron moved forward to examine the notice, "So who's taking your place then," he asked then went pale as he read the paper.  
"What's wrong mate," Harry asked and Ron looked at him, mouth open and gaping like a fish.  
"Oh for goodness sake," Hermione said and moved forward to see what had Ron so shocked.  
"Oh," she said quietly and looked over at Harry.  
"What?" He asked, frustration seeping through his tone.  
"You're going to slytherin," she answered.  
"What?" Harry replied and stepped forward to examine to parchment.  
'Harry Potter - Slytherin House.'  
Harry gulped and turned to look at his friends.  
"Snape is going to torture me for a week, isn't he?"


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter nine 

 

Saturday morning came far too quickly for Harry. Despite having gotten several dream aid potions from Madame Pomfrey, he had not even tried to sleep and so when the sun finally rose he was feeling extremely nauseous from both lack of sleep and anxiety. 

When Ron called out from the other side of his secured curtains that he was going to the hall for breakfast, Harry had to swallow deeply to avoid bringing up the small amount of his stomach's contents. 

“No thanks, Ron,” he managed to call out and he heard his friend mutter to himself or someone else, then Ron responded that he would see Harry later and seconds later the room was quiet. 

Harry took advantage of the room being empty to make his way to the showers and stand under the spray until he was a little more awake and his stomach had stopped churning so wickedly. He didn’t know why he was so nervous, it’s not like Snape hadn’t been almost tolerable so far this year, and most of Slytherin were just happy to be out from under the thumb of Voldemort. 

He was in no more danger there, than he was anywhere else in the school. In fact he’d probably be safer there, ‘cause he’d have most of Slytherin watching to make sure he wasn't murdered in his sleep, thus giving the rest of the school the excuse to murder all of Slytherin. 

Making extra sure his glamours were in place, harry dressed carefully and made his way down to the common room. He’d been in the shower long enough, that Ron was back from breakfast and he and Hermione were talking with each other quietly in a corner of the room. Hermione saw him first and with a smile, gestured for him to join them. 

“Morning, Harry, how are you feeling this morning ?” she asked and Harry shrugged his shoulders. 

“Professor Dumbledore wanted us to tell you he would like you to go to his office this morning some time and that the password was sugar quills.” Hermione told him when it became obvious that he wasn't going to be saying anything. 

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled and with a small wave, headed out of the common room and towards the headmaster's office. Might as well get this over and done with as soon as possible, then maybe he could find somewhere to hole up quietly for the rest of the day. 

“Sugar quills,” he told the suit of armour one he arrived and it stepped aside. When he knocked on the outer door of Dumbledore's office, the headmaster invited him in. 

“Harry my boy, I didn’t see you at breakfast this morning, have you been?” The headmaster asked, offering his dish of lemon drops silently, to which Harry shook his head. 

“I’m not really hungry this morning,” he replied and tried to ignore the small frown that flickered across Dumbledore's face for a second. 

“Well, then I guess we had better get started, and hope your appetite improves.” he answered Harry and waved a hand at the comfy chairs opposite his desk. Harry perched uncomfortably on the edge of one and waited. 

“I suppose you’re wondering why you did not have the usual meeting with the exchangees last night, and why you were assigned Slytherin without having a re-sort.” Dumbledore commented and Harry smirked at the old man and shook his head. 

“I’m guessing ‘cause the hat wanted to put me in Slytherin and that you knew that,“ Harry told him and the headmaster smiled and leaned back in his chair. 

“Very good, Harry. You are correct. There was no need for a re-sort when the hat reliably informed me that had you not protested so vehemently , you would have spent the last few years as a Snake, rather than a Lion.” Since Dumbledore didn’t seem too upset over this revelation, Harry remained quiet to see if he would continue his revelation. 

“I understand of course, why you would have initially shunned the idea of being in Slytherin, coming into the knowledge of your inheritance as it were, and the little negative experiences you had, but it is this knowledge that had us, that is your professors and I, discussing a change in the contracts you sign.” 

Harry looked at Dumbledore and frowned, “I don’t understand, Sir, how will my situation be any different to anyone else doing this whole exchange experiment?” he asked. 

“It is believed that since you were supposed to be in Slytherin, that you have not flourished the way you may have flourished were you placed into the correct house to begin with. We believe, I believe, that if after the end of this week you appear to be doing better in Slytherin that you be able to actually be re-sorted there.” 

Harry stood up abruptly and stumbled back away from the desk. “You’re going to take me away from the tower?” He almost shouted, clenching his fists to refrain from further outburst, Harry stared defiantly at the headmaster. 

“No,” my boy, he responded calmly, “merely give you the chance to decide. It is clear to all that there is a separation forming now, between you and your friends, and we all simply wish for you to finally be free of all burdens and enjoy the years of school you have left ahead of you.” 

Harry shook his head so rapidly his vision tunneled and he felt himself wobble. 

“No!” he exclaimed. “I will do this stupid exchange, if only for the good of the rest of this school. To continue proving my point that we should not be divided. But I will be moving back into the tower this time next week.” he vehemently stated, fists still clenched and breath a little rapid. 

“Very well, Harry,” Dumbledore replied, clearly trying to placate him. 

“In that case, Harry, you will simply need to sign these contracts and you may go, although you will be expected in the great hall at dinner time to take your place at the Slytherin table.” 

“Whats in the contracts?” Harry asked, reluctantly stepping back toward the desk to accept the papers Dumbledore held out to him. He quickly scanned them as Dumbledore explained they were basically a contract stating that he would behave himself whilst in the new house. Harry signed them quickly, and without another word, strode toward the door. 

“I think you will be pleasantly surprised at the differences between Slytherin and Gryffindor, as well as the similarities.” Dumbledore told him as he turned the handle and opened the door. 

“Yes, professor,” he said simply and left the office. 

He spent the remainder of the day cuddled up in a window seat in one of the rarer used corridors. A privacy and locking charm on the curtain and he remained hidden and uninterrupted. He ignored his stomachs rumbles as it approached, then passed, lunchtime and only moved when he could hear students making their way noisily to the great hall for dinner. 

There were already several students lined up at the front of the hall, including Hermione, and Harry went to stand next to her as his heart beat rapidly in his chest and the nausea he had experienced this morning returned with a vengeance. 

“Where have you been all day, Harry?” Hermione asked and shot him a worried look, “Ron wanted to spend some time with both of us before we left him alone for the week.” she explained and Harry frowned. 

“It’s not like we’re going to Durmstrang,” he told her, “he’ll still see one of us in most of his classes, and I’m sure you were enough of a distraction.” Hermione blushed and didn’t answer. They stood silently after that and waited for Dumbledore to introduce them as the newest group of exchangees before they were invited to head over to their new house tables. 

Hermione gave him a small smile as she moved across the room to take a seat at the Ravenclaw table and immediately start talking with several sixth years animatedly. Harry smirked to himself at the sight and then after hesitating a second, moved toward the Slytherin side of the room. 

“Over here, Harry,” he heard Blaise call and was unable to hide the smile that showed on his face when he saw Blaise standing and waving him over to the empty seat beside him. Harry took the seat and gave Blaise a small smile. 

“Welcome to Slytherin, Harry,“ Blaise told him, and to Harry’s surprise, several of the students around him echoed the sentiment. 

“You remember Crabbe and Goyle,” Blaise indicated the two boys on the other side of him and Harry nodded. 

“It’s nice to see you without that blonde haired leech attached,” Harry told them and to his surprise they both barked out a short burst of laughter and Goyle leaned around Blaise to pat Harry roughly on the back. 

“We’re glad to be free of him too,” he confessed and Harry shared a small smile with him before turning his attention back to a widely grinning Blaise. 

“You wont be feeling too friendly when their snores keep you awake tonight,” Blaise told him and was then promptly smacked on the back of the head. 

“That’s what silencing charms are for, you squib,” Goyle told him and Harry laughed outright causing Blaise's smile to widen even further, though he chose to ignore the friendly insult choosing instead to indicate Daphne Greengrass and Tracey Davis. 

“And of course, you've also met my very best friends.” 

“Oh stop, Blaise, you savage,” Daphne told him. Blaise just smiled and introduced Harry to a few of the Slytherins around them. Harry was becoming a little overwhelmed, but after people had been introduced and politely greeted him, they went back to their food. 

Harry placed some food on his plate, but simply stirred the contents around in circles and didn’t eat anything. If Blaise noticed he didn’t comment, and for that Harry was grateful. Soon though, dinner and dessert were done and he found himself standing to follow the rest of Slytherin down to the dungeons. He walked confidently besides Blaise, and when they stopped in front of the right part of the passage and Blaise informed Harry the common room was beyond the wall, Harry responded with “I know.” 

Blaise looked at him startled for a minute and then smiled. “I hear a long and interesting story in there somewhere, Harry, and I expect you to share it later.” Harry shrugged and grinned in return then waited patiently for the password. 

“Salazar,” Blaise said and the wall shifted to reveal the silver and green common room. Harry moved in after Blaise and looked around. He had to admit, the green and silver was a lot more soothing than the red and gold on tired eyes and the large window looking out into the lake was pretty amazing. 

The chairs were uniform in design but looked comfortable enough, and although there wasn't as many people as would be crowded in the Gryffindor common room, there were enough people dotted around that the place didn’t seem empty or imposing. 

Blaise let him look his fill, then indicated for Harry to follow him to the dorms, where he pointed out the bed Harry would be sleeping in. 

“We didn’t actually have anyone taken out from the other sixth years, since we had space for two spare beds.” Blaise informed him and Harry nodded and wondered if he was taking Malfoy's bed or Nott's, and whether or not he should be grossed out by the thought or not. 

He saw that his trunk was already at the end of the bed, and resisted the urge to see if everything was still within it. Blaise might take offense at that, and there was no need to offend anyone minutes after arriving. His invisibility cloak and album were at the very bottom and looked pretty boring to the untrained eye, and of course his blade was in his pocket where it always was. 

Besides the five beds that took up the room, there was a large table with five chairs surrounding it and a doorway that Harry assumed led to the bathroom. 

“As you can see, we have a study table in our dorms, as well as several down in the common room. It makes it easier to find somewhere quiet and uninterrupted to work if we need it and keeps the common room a little clearer.” Blaise told him and Harry nodded. 

“You won’t find people drinking and playing loud games either, we might not be ‘death eaters in training’ anymore,” Blasie made quotes with his fingers and Harry grimaced at the knowledge that they had heard this nickname, “but we are mostly made up of pure bloods here. Decorum is a big thing, drilled into our tiny brains from birth.“ Blaise smiled at him and Harry forced a smile back. 

“Its fine, I think I’ll enjoy a week of peace and quiet and people too busy being socially polite to stick their nose where it’s not wanted.” 

Blaise laughed and moved back toward the door out. “Snape will be here in about twenty minutes, he normally sticks his head into the common room every night, but Saturday night he comes in and makes sure that no one needs anything, and catches up with anyone who might have slipping grades or gotten a detention or something.” 

Harry gawked at Blaise for a minute, “he actually does that?” He finally asked and Blaise nodded then frowned. 

“It’s what a head of house is supposed to do,“ he said and Harry opened his mouth to defend McGonagal, but Blaise spoke over him. 

“I know, I know, Professor Mcgonagal is a wonderful head of house, but you have to admit, with her being deputy headmistress, she really should have assigned her head of house duties to someone else. She’s too busy."

Harry frowned and looked like he was going to continue arguing, but then visibly deflated. 

“Yeah, you’re right, guess I can put up with a nosy head of house for a week,” he told Blaise and finally followed him out of the dorm and back down to the common room. The room was more full now, as students took any empty seat available and turned it to face a section of the room. 

“Over here,” he heard someone call and was grateful to see that Blaise’s friends had saved them both a seat a little more towards the back of the room. Harry moved after Blaise and they both sank down into their chairs. Several minutes later the conversations around them quietened as Professor Snape stepped into the room and walked up the stand in front of the students sitting in the chairs and on the floor. 

“Good evening,“ he told them and Harry heard a few of the students around him return the greeting but quickly fall silent again. It was almost eerie the way they seemed to respect Snape and Harry found himself sitting a little straighter and listening a little better. 

“To begin with, I would like to welcome Mr Potter to Slytherin and remind you all that temporary or not, he is currently a member of this house and will be treated as such.” Snape looked out over the students and when his eyes fell on him, Harry had to force himself not to look away from the gaze. A second later, Snape was continuing his perusal of the students. 

“I am happy to say that this week has resulted in a minimum of house points lost, and several gained.” He smiled out at them and Harry’s eyebrows almost touched his hairline at the affection he could see in the professor's eyes. 

“That being said, I will remind you that my office is always open for those who may need me.” He then listed off several names of students he would like to speak to,including Harry, telling them to simply remain in the common room and he would seek them out. 

He appeared to be finished as several groups of students broke away from the clump of chairs, returning theirs from where they had grabbed it from and either sitting in smaller groups or heading to their dorm rooms. 

Harry slid down into his chair and resisted placing his face into his hands. “He does that every week?!” he asked Blaise and when the boy nodded Harry tried to respond and found himself speechless for a moment. 

“But he smiled!” he exclaimed, “and there were no insults and he was NICE!” Blaise laughed out loud and patted Harry on the leg, who had to then viciously fight back the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks. 

“Harry, Professor Snape likes us, for he most part.” Harry opened and shut his mouth several times. 

“You have to remember, with the dark lord traipsing around causing all the havoc he caused, we were a house who was ostracized and belittled and discriminated, and we needed someone to hold us together. Without him, there would be so many more people missing from this common room right now, and we are all thankful for him.” 

Harry, still speechless, was only able to nod before the man himself appeared by the chairs. 

Snape sat in the chair that Daphne vacated earlier and smiled at Blaise before turning back to Harry. 

“Welcome to Slytherin house, Mr Potter,” he said politely, although Harry noticed he did not get a smile. 

“Although I am sure Mr Zabini will apprise you of a our rules and regulations, I would just like to share a few of the more important ones.” Harry nodded, his eyes widening a little and he bit the side of his cheek gently. 

“The first rule is that we treat this house like a family. There is no infighting to occur, either within these walls, or outside them. If you take issue with someone you find a mediator or myself to help with the issue, you do not take it upon yourself to deal with it.” He waited for Harry to nod again in acknowledgment, then continued. 

“You are expected to attend all meals, classes, any meetings I arrange, and follow curfew. Any drastic amount of points lost or detentions given and you will find yourself in my office explaining your behavior.” Snape curled his lip at that, like he fully expected Harry to be in his office tomorrow afternoon with a number of detentions to his name and Harry bit down harder on his cheek so he couldn‘t say something he might regret later. 

“That is all,” Snape finished and stood up to approach a first year sitting by herself in front of the lit fireplace. 

“Well, that was intense,” Harry finally said and exhaled loudly, before standing, “I think I might go to bed.” 

Blaise stood and nodded. “Yeah, I think I’ll come up too.“ Both boys headed to their dorm where Goyle was lying on his bed with a book in his hand and the sound of a shower could be heard running in the bathroom. 

“Okay, so I think I’ve been patient enough,” Blaise turned to look at Harry and Harry looked back quizzically. “How did you know where our common room was?” he asked and Harry felt his cheeks heat before he glanced over at Goyle. 

“We knew what you were doing,” the Slytherin told him and Harry paled quickly, his jaw dropping as he was once again made speechless. Blaise looked between the two boys and frowned. 

“Ok, you better spill it right now,” he demanded and Harry got the impression that he was seconds away from stamping his foot and he had to bite down on his tongue to suppress a sudden burst of hysterical laughter. When it became obvious that he wouldn’t be answering any time soon, Blaise moved over and hit the bottom of Goyle's foot, hard. 

“You, spill!” 

“Potter and those ridiculous friends of his were certain that Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin back in second year and plotted to take polyjuice potion and sneak in here to question him.” Goyle’s explanation only made Blaise frown harder and Harry choked back another burst of hysterical laughter. 

“They spelled cupcakes with a sleeping draught and once Crabbe and I had eaten, stole some hair, and our shoes and then snuck down here.” 

Blaise looked at Harry, certain his friend was pulling a prank on him, but Harry’s expression said it all, and instead he burst into laughter. 

Harry looked affronted for a minute, “we thought it was a brilliant idea, and do you have any idea how hard it was to brew that blasted potion?” he finally blurted out, only making Blaise laugh even harder. 

Harry turned toward Goyle and pointed his finger at him. “And you knew?” he asked, “then why the hell did you eat the cupcake?!” 

“’Cause we thought maybe you were onto something, and figured it couldn’t hurt to find out and still remain innocent under veritaserum.” Crabbe explained as he moved into the room dressed in his pajamas but still toweling at his wet hair. 

“We’re not stupid you know,” and Harry blushed since that’s exactly what he and his friends all thought, “but we’re also both half-bloods and in order to stay safe we needed to pretend we were.” Harry nodded but didn't really know what to say so remained silent. 

“They were bloody good cupcakes though!” Goyle stated and finally Harry couldn’t control himself any longer and he burst into laughter, followed by the rest of the rooms occupants. 

It was a good many minutes later when they had all gotten back into some semblance of control, although Blaise kept whispering to himself then chuckling madly. 

Harry smiled at Crabbe and Goyle, frowned in Blaise's direction which only caused him to chuckle again, and moved over to grab his towel, toiletries and some pajamas from his trunk. 

Moving into the bathroom, he was glad to see it was set much like the one in Gryffindor tower, with a couple of toilet cubicles and separate curtained shower stalls. He stepped into one and after pulling the curtain closed and taking out his wand to cast a locking charm on them, he undressed and stepped into the shower. 

After washing, he picked up his wand and re-cast his glamour without removing the existing one and dressed before moving over to the sinks to brush his teeth. From the mirror he could see Blaise enter the bathroom and step into his own shower stall and Harry fought back the butterflies he felt at the idea of the Blaise naked only a few feet away. 

He quickly finished his teeth and moved back into the bedroom, climbing into the unfamiliar bed and pulling the curtains around him after a mumbled goodnight to the room in the general. 

He really wished he had some dreamless sleep, but after several more scans on his head, madame Pomfrey had declared that it was unsafe for him to take it at all for several weeks, and he hadn’t wanted to argue with the medi-witch lest she start scanning other areas of him. 

Instead, he pulled out the vial of pink dream aid potion and gulped it down, already knowing it was going to be pretty useless.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edited and posted on my phone, so please ignore any issues :)

Chapter Ten

It felt like only minutes later that he jolted awake, soaked with sweat and heaving for breath. The room was quiet around him however, and he could hear someone snoring lightly. It took several minutes for his breathing to calm down, but when he got himself under a little more control he grimaced at how sweaty he was.  
Climbing quietly from his bed, he grabbed some dry clothes and his towel and moved quietly into the bathroom where he locked and silenced the outer door. He moved into a shower stall and pulled his sweat soaked pyjamas off and threw them on the floor in disgust before stepping under the spray.  
In the silence of the night, he released his glamours and looked down at his body in disgust. With his uncle's abuse, and his own, there was hardly a spot left on his body that did not have scarring of some kind and he felt repulsed with himself. He hastily re-applied the glamour and turned the heat of the shower up.

 

The water scalded his skin, turning it bright red in seconds, but he grit his teeth and remained under the spray for several minutes. When that didn’t chase away the lingering effects of the nightmare he just experienced, Harry stepped from the spray and tore a button from his pyjamas shirt.

Snatching up his wand, he transfigured the button into a small blade not unlike his usual one, and stepped back under the hot spray to slice at the flesh on his upper left arm. The rest of the scars remained hidden under the glamour, so the blood was bright against the pale skin of as seemingly smooth arm. Several cuts later, and he dropped the blade at his feet and turned the spray even hotter, resting his head on the cool tile of the shower wall and letting the water fall over his back.

Suddenly he heard the bathroom door open and close, despite his locking charm, and he braced himself to deal with a worried Blaise.

“You have thirty seconds to remove yourself from that cubicle Mr Potter, or I will be forced to come in there and remove you my self.” Harry’s heart stopped and for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

What the hell was Snape doing here?!

“Twenty seconds, Mr Potter,” he heard Snape snarl out and Harry hurried to turn the water off then wasted several seconds debating whether to use his towel to cover his modesty, or his arm. There was no point casting a glamour, the blood would still drip down his arm, and he didn’t have time to cast what little healing spells he knew.

"Ten seconds,” Snape drawled and Harry panicked and just managed to wrap his towel around his waist before he started hyperventilating. He backed against the shower wall and slid down, bringing his knees to his chest and gasping for air.

The shower curtain was shoved aside and Harry looked up from where he sat to gaze at Snape through bleary eyes.

“Breathe, Potter,” he heard Snape say and he wanted to snark back that he was trying but couldn't find the air to speak.

"Ok, Potter, take a deep breath and hold it to the count of seven,” Professor Snape told him and Harry was confused at being told to hold his breath when he could hardly breathe as it was, but figured it couldn’t hurt to try.

“Very good, Potter, now count to five while you exhale.” Harry did that, then did the whole thing over again when Snape told him to and after several minutes his breathing had calmed down and instead of feeling like he was suffocating, he was just feeling mortified at the whole situation.

Now, that you have calmed down, I want you to dress in your pyjamas and then come out of this stall, I will be waiting.” Professor Snape stood up from where he was kneeling by Harry and Harry blushed when he saw that the knees of Snape’s pants were wet

“You have two minutes, Mr Potter.” Snape said, as he moved out of the stall and pulled the curtain shut behind him.

Harry pulled on the clean underwear and pants he’d brought in with him, but hesitated to put his top on. His arm was still bleeding sluggishly and if he put the shirt on now he’d end up needing yet a new one. Instead, he held his shirt in his hand, wrapped his towel around his shoulders and pulled aside the curtain to step out from the stall.

Professor Snape was leaning by the counter, where he had placed a bandage and several vials from his pocket. When he saw Harry he conjured a chair with his wand and glanced at it meaningfully. Harry reluctantly moved forward and sat.

“How did you know I was in here?” he asked petulantly, “spy on us even in the bathrooms?” Snape bristled at the implication in the comment.

“I have several wards on the whole of the Slytherin rooms, so I may be alerted in my chambers if someone falls seriously ill or is dangerously hurt. One of those wards is an alarm to alert me of self-injurious behaviour such as this.” Snape indicated the several cuts on Harrys arms and Harry flinched.

You did not think you were the only one to engage in such behaviour did you Mr Potter?” Snape questioned snidely. “Although, I must admit it has been several years since those particular wards went off.”  
Snape leant forward to examine Harry’s arm, then conjured a cloth before poring the contents of one of his vials over it and slapping it onto his arm.

Harry flinched at the sting but didn’t say anything. When Snape offered him a blood replenishing potion he shook his head, and although Snape pursed his lips, he placed the vial back into his pocket, along with the empty one. He banished the cloth, then wound the bandage tightly.

This will do until Madame Pomfrey can take a look, I am not confident enough in my healing spells to attempt them when there is a perfectly good medi-witch available.”

Harry flinched yet again and pulled his arm into his chest to grip it tightly. “Do we need to tell her?“ he almost pleaded and for a second he thought he saw pity in Snape’s eyes before he replaced it with a sneer.

“Of course, we must,” he told Harry. “You have once again been caught causing harm to yourself, after claiming it was only an experiment, I might add. It would be remiss of me and my duties as your head of house if I did not get you seen to.”

“But you’re not my head of house!” Harry exclaimed and Snape looked at him, then around the bathroom.

"This appears to be the Slytherin sixth years bathroom, does it not? Where you came to mutilate yourself after sleeping in the sixth years dorm room?”

“But it’s only for a week,” Harry fought back and Snape smiled a grin so predatory that Harry was unable to fight the flinch this time.

“Very well, shall we go and wake Minerva then?” he asked and Harry paled.

“What? No!” he said. “Why do we even need to tell anyone? You’ve fixed my arm, its fine, and you’ve got these stupid wards on, so I can't do it again. Just leave me alone,” Harry‘s voice cracked and he felt tears well up in his eyes, so he pushed down hard on his arm.

"Stop that!“ Snape saw exactly what Harry was doing and reached out to snatch his hand away from his bandaged arm.

“You were given the benefit of the doubt the other night, Mr Potter, but that cannot be allowed this time. You will be taken to the hospital wing, where you will remove all glamours,” at this Snape peered at Harry over his nose, “and then we will decide on the appropriate course of action.”  
Snape snatched Harry’s shirt up from the sink where he had draped it before he sat and held it out the Harry.

"I placed a silencing charm on the room when I entered, thought I cannot know if your roommates are awake. If you wish for some privacy, finish getting dressed and we will head toward the hospital wing as quietly as we are able.”

Harry snatched the shirt and pulled it on roughly, even now enjoying the sharp sting as his cuts were pulled taut at the movement. Thankfully, his dorm mates were all still asleep as they exited the bathroom, and the trek out of the dungeons was done in silence.

Knowing there was no way out of a check-up, Harry frantically thought of how to keep at least some of his secrets. Snape had snatched up his wand when he was pulling his shirt on, but he had cast and re-cast the glamour spell enough that he thought if he really tied hard enough he could do it wandless.

All he really needed to do was concentrate so the glamour dropped from his arms but remained up over the rest of his body. His arms showed quite a large amount of scarring, but most of it was fairly recent, so maybe he could still convince them that it was a pretty new thing that had just gotten out of control.

And if he showed them his arms, especially if he made enough of a fuss, maybe Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t look too hard anywhere else.

By the time he’d figured all this out they had arrived at the infirmary and Snape was pushing Harry inside.

Once again, he was led over to a bed and forced to sit. His heart was still racing hard, but he continued breathing deeply. If he was going to pull this off he needed to be calm and in control. By the time Snape had conjured his patronus and sent a message off to Madame Pomfrey, he had gotten himself calmed down and was sitting placidly on the bed watching him.

If Snape noticed the change, he didn’t comment on it, but rather pulled up a chair to take a seat beside the bed. A few minutes passed silently, both people in the room resolutely ignoring the other, and Madame Pomfrey came bustling into the hospital wing.

She had taken the time to dress this time around and was already clutching her wand in her hand. When she saw Harry on the bed with Professor Snape sitting close by, she pursed her lips and moved closer.

"Sorry to disturb your sleep once more, Poppy, but I felt it prudent to bring the boy in now rather than the morning, in the event that he has further injuries he has hidden on his person.”

“I’m sorry, Severus, but you will need to explain.” Madame Pomfrey responded and Harry fought not to shrink in on himself, and instead sat straighter and stared blankly at the wall behind the medi-witch.

“A short time ago, my sleep was interrupted by the ward alarm I have placed on the Slytherin quarters and a closer look informed me I was needed in the sixth-year boy’s bathroom. I found Harry in the shower, arm dripping blood from several wounds he had inflicted on his upper arm.”  
"After an initial panic attack, in which I had to coach Potter on how to breathe, I cleaned the wounds to the best of my ability and brought him directly to you. I believe it is time to cast a finite incantatum on the boy to see how much damage he is hiding.”

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips further and regarded Harry for several long, embarrassing moments. Harry felt his heart rate increase and immediately bit his tongue hard enough to flood his mouth with blood, but it did what he intended and the panic receded.

“Okay, Mr Potter, we have done it one way and clearly, I was wrong to place such trust in your actions. Remove your shirt and trousers please, although you may keep your pants in place.”

Harry blushed but did not fight the suggestion which had Professor Snape narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

When he was sitting on the bed in nothing but his tatty second hand boxer shorts he shivered in the cool air and forced himself to watch the two professors, defiance and uncertainty showing on his face.

“Are you wearing a glamour, Harry?” Madame Pomfrey asked, taking in the bandage wrapped around his upper arm, but his otherwise unremarkable skin.

“No,” Harry lied and forced himself to look away in a pretence of guilt. He needed to play his part properly to get away with this, and now was the perfect time to get in touch with his inner Slytherin.

“You're lying,” Snape grit through his teeth and Harry shook his head emphatically.

"No,” he shouted and reached down to pull the blanket folded at the end of the bed up over his skinny frame. Professor Snape reached out and tugged the blanket from his grasp and put it next to him over the arm of his chair.

“You may have the blanket back when we have finished.” he told Harry.

“Fuck you,” Harry told the man and then cowered when Snape stood to tower over him.

“One more outburst such as that and you will spend your week in Slytherin cleaning all the unused classrooms the dungeon has to offer.” He told Harry, who shrugged his shoulders angrily.

"I don’t fucking care,” Harry mumbled, but didn’t dare say it too loudly.  
“Gentlemen,” Madame Pomfrey interrupted and they both looked at the medi-witch guiltily.  
“Harry, I’m going to cast a few spells now. They should not hurt, but if you are wearing a glamour, they may tickle or cause slight discomfort.” Harry didn‘t respond, instead only closed his eyes and thought as hard as he could the glamour spell, focussing mainly on his back and legs.

“Finite Incantatum,” he heard the medi-witch intone and focussed even harder, forgetting to breathe for several seconds as he put all the magic he had in keeping what he could hidden.

He felt the tingle she said he would, mainly in his arms, but there was a discomfort in his chest too and at Madame Pomfrey’s gasp and Snape’s growl, he snapped his eyes open in panic. He forced himself to look down, and although he was grateful to see his legs remained unblemished, his arms and their scars were on show.

He also realised with some trepidation that the glamour spell had been hiding the weight he had lost over the last few weeks, and instead of a slightly skinny body, his ribs and hipbones stood stark and obvious against his white skin and he realised with dismay that it was probably this that had Professor Snape snarling.

"Oh Harry,” Madame Pomfrey choked out and moved closer to the bed. Harry reached over as far as he could and snatched the blanket off the arm of the chair and throwing it around his shoulders, drew into the warmth and comfort it provided. Snape made no move to stop him.

Madame Pomfrey seemed to regather herself and stepped right up to Harry to pick up one of his arms and examine it closely, professionalism back in place. Snape stood to gather Harry’s other arm and inspect the wounds for himself. They were numerous, in various stages of healing, and lined both his arms sporadically from wrist to shoulder. If Harry was honest with himself, he’d admit they were hideous, but they were his.

How long?” Snape asked Harry, who shrugged his shoulders, unsure how honest he needed to be to be asked the minimal amount of questions.

“Few years, on and off,” he finally admitted.

“Why?” Madame Pomfrey asked and Harry looked over at her, though she continued to be bent over his arm, examining it still.

“Because I was ‘the boy who lived,’” he explained and when he heard her make a sound of confusion, continued.

“I knew nothing about magic, until Hagrid came to get me when I turned eleven. Then, I’m thrust into the limelight in a world that seemed to enjoy idolising AND villainising me and it was just fucking difficult sometimes, okay.” to his embarrassment, his voice broke on the last word and sounded more like a sob and he drew his knees up to his chest, attempting to pull his arms back as well, but neither arms were released.

“These need to be cleaned and bandaged, Mr Potter,” Madame Pomfrey told Harry and used her wand to accio several potions. Harry stared resolutely at the wall behind her and forced himself to ignore what the medi-witch was doing.

What felt like days later to his exhaustion, Madam Pomfrey finished bandaging his second arm and he was finally free to clutch the blanket to his chest. He stared wordlessly at the two adults, who seemed to be having a silent conversation of their own and finally Madame Pomfrey sighed and raised her wand.

“I’m going to cast a spell that will record your height, weight and blood pressure.” she told him and before he could protest, several numbers appeared above his bed, two glowing an uneasy red colour.

“You are severely underweight for your age and height, Harry, and your blood pressure is concerning.” The medi-witch told Harry and he once again shrugged his shoulders. She frowned and picked up one of the vials before handing it to Harry.

"It is a blood replenishing potion,” she told him when he looked at her inquisitively.

“I don’t need it,” he grumbled out and tried to hand it back.

“The results of your blood pressure scan, as well as the numerous evidence of your self-indulged blood-letting speak otherwise, Mr Potter, now drink,” Snape drawled from where he once again sat beside the bed.

Harry scowled but pulled the stopper out and drank the potion. Madame Pomfrey picked up another vial and offered that to Harry who once again accepted it but simply frowned at its unfamiliar contents.

“A nutrient potion” she explained and rather than argue, he pulled its stopper and drank it down as well.

"Before we address the obvious issue of your self-harm addiction, I would like to address your weight, Mr Potter,” the medi-witch looked at Harry, “are you starving yourself as an additional form of self-harm, or is it a separate issue of its own?”

“What!” Harry startled. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean,” he shouted.

“Detention, Mr Potter, for your continued use of unnecessary, uncouth language.” Snape interrupted and Harry turned to frown at him before turning back to the medi-witch.

“I’m not starving myself!” he told her. “I just....” he stopped, unable to continue.

"Just what, Mr Potter?” Madame Pomfrey pushed and Harry searched for an answer that didn’t begin with ‘my relatives starve me all the time and now food is too much for me.’

“The nightmares...” he stopped again and swallowed deeply whilst Madame Pomfrey waited patiently. “The nightmares make me physically ill sometimes, and then I’m just not hungry the next day.” he finally explained and both adults in the room frowned.

“I am sorry I cannot give you any dreamless sleep, Harry, but is the dream aid potion not working at all?” she questioned and Harry shook his head.

"In that case, I think it may be necessary to bring in some outside help.” she told Harry and he sat up straighter to stare at her with wide eyes.

“What do you mean, outside help?” he asked  
“I mean a mind healer, Mr Potter, someone in who you can confide your dreams and work through the issues you are experiencing.”

“No,” Harry shouted and tried to climb from the bed, but Professor Snape put out his arm and pushed him back down forcefully, so Harry tried another tactic.

“You can’t bring in some quack!” he exclaimed, “do you have any idea how much crap I’ll get from the assholes at this school If they find out I'm mental?”

"Mr Potter,” Snape warned again and Harry bit down on his tongue again to keep the profanities from spewing out.

“I think it may be the best way to help you, Harry,” Madame Pomfrey repeated, “but I will not make the decision without involving the headmaster.”

Harry grimaced at the idea of once again having to face Dumbledore, but didn’t say anything, completely done with the whole experience.

“Until then, you will be expected to report to either myself or Professor Snape for a visual confirmation that you have ceased these...activities...and you are on a strict recommendation to not miss any more meals. If you are experiencing nausea, you may request a stomach soother, or appetite stimulant again from myself or Professor Snape. However, if your weight does not improve, or worsens, we will have to come to some more drastic measures of ensuring you are getting the nutrients your body requires to function.”

Harry just nodded his head and resisted the urge to pull the blanket up and over his face to block out everything.

“I think it best that you remain here for the night,” Madame Pomfrey explained and then excused herself to her office, no doubt to set several wards to make sure Harry behaved himself.

“I can’t stay here,” Harry turned to Snape pleadingly. “All the boys in the dorm will wonder where I've gone. Gryffindor were used to me disappearing all the time!”

"You may tell those who ask why you were absent whatever you wish, but know they are in Slytherin for a reason and cunning and clever.” Professor Snape told Harry and stood up, pushing his chair back to where he had gotten it.

“I expect to see you in the great hall for breakfast, Mr Potter, and although it is Sunday, I also expect you in my office at seven for your detention.”

“Whatever,” Harry mumbled and finally giving in to the urge, he lay down and pulled the blanket completely over his head. He was finally left in silence, although his thoughts raged loudly in his head.

He had succeeded in hiding the abuse and many more cuts and scars littering his legs, but to what endgame? They still knew that he self-harmed and, although they didn’t know the origins, his issues with food.

Finally exhausted he managed to slip into a light doze, that may not have contained nightmares but were still full of restless movement and mumbled words of discontent.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven 

When Madame Pomfrey shook him gently awake a few hours later, he sat up with a gasp.   
“Sorry, Mr Potter, but if you wish to make it in time for breakfast, you need to be leaving shortly.”   
Harry pulled the blankets off and stepped off the bed only to look down and blush when he realised he was still just wearing his pants.   
“Nothing I haven‘t seen before, Mr Potter,” he heard laughter in her voice and frowned. “Here,” she held out a uniform. “Professor Snape retrieved it from your dorm this morning, although he was kind enough to inform me that he did see nor speak to any of the boys sharing the room with you.”   
Harry took the uniform, “thanks,” he muttered and headed to the small bathroom to change.   
“Just put your pyjamas in the clothes hamper, the elves will wash them and return them to your trunk,” Madame Pomfrey called out after him and Harry nodded his head before closing the door. Once in the semi privacy of the bathroom he leant over the sink and took several deep breaths.   
Pulling the pyjamas of and having to see the bandages adorning his arms was confronting, so he pulled his uniform and robes on hastily. When he went to cast a tooth cleaning charm, he realised that Snape still had his wand from the night before. He slammed out of the bathroom intent on finding the Professor and demanding the return of his wand only to see Madame Pomfrey waiting by the exit with his wand in her hand.   
“You may have this back, Mr Potter, but I will tell you now that if we have any further concerns regarding your wellbeing, it will be taken from you until we consider it safe enough to return.” Harry paled at the idea of losing his wand for an indeterminate amount of time and nodded vigorously.   
“Very well, you had best get to breakfast lest the wrath of Professor Snape fall on your head,” the medi-witch smiled at Harry and then followed him from the room. At his frown she smiled again, “It is also time for my breakfast, Mr Potter, I am not following you for any nefarious reasons.”   
Harry just grunted and continue to the walk to the hall in silence. When he got there, he could see all the boys from his dorm crowded around one end of the Slytherin table and he reluctantly made his way over   
Expecting to be asked where he was that morning, Harry was pleasantly surprised when everyone greeted him then went back to their food without prying.   
Blaise did look at him with concern in his eyes, but even he didn‘t ask where Harry had been and he could see why Dumbledore had said he would enjoy the differences in Slytherin. He could see Snape sitting in his usual seat at the head table, and so reached over and prepared himself a small bowl of porridge, decorated with berries and sugar.   
Before the idea of having to actually eat the food caused his stomach to rebel too much, a small potions vial appeared next to his bowl. A quick sniff test let him know it was a stomach soother potion and he drank it down quickly. Again, if anyone at the table saw his actions, no one commented and he was able to enjoy his breakfast for the first time in a very long time.   
Since it was Sunday, many of the students lingered over their food and when he had finally finished his bowl and sat back to sip slowly at a mug of tea, Blaise turned to him and smiled.   
“Did you have any plans for today, Harry?” he asked and Harry shook his head, then shrugged.   
“Not really,” he replied, “I’ll probably do some homework at some point, but otherwise nothing until tonight.”   
“What’s tonight?” Crabbe butt in from his seat on the other side of Blaise, and Harry grimaced and rubbed at the back of his neck before responding.   
“Uh, I have a detention,” he admitted, gaining the attention of Goyle from across the table as well as Blaise and Crabbe.   
“It’s Sunday!” Crabbe exclaimed, “who’d give detention on a Sunday?!“   
“Professor Snape,” Harry mumbled, annoyed but not surprised to see that his Slytherin peers will stick their noses in if they deem it interesting enough. No one asked what the detention was for though, and Harry couldn’t tell if that was because it was pretty much a given that he would have detention or if they felt like they had failed in public decorum   
.Blaise did raise his eyebrow at Harry though, which made Harry smirk at the Slytherin, who then laughed.   
“Would you like to work with me on the astronomy essay?” He asked and Harry nodded in reply and stood up from the table.   
“Might as well get started, right? Then we can enjoy some of our day,” he told Blaise and together they made their way down to the dungeons. They agreed that the table in their room would work best, as they could spread out their star charts and not get in the way of any one trying to study.   
Blaise took the seat next to Harry so they could study their charts together and several times Harry had to fight a blush. Their hands would touch, or Blaise would lean over to examine something and his leg would rest on Harry’s. At the end of an hour Harry wasn’t sure he had actually remembered any of what they’d learned, but he had a finished essay and his cheeks had finally stopped heating at the slightest touch.   
In mutual agreement, they pack up their things and headed back to the common room. The rest of the day was spent pleasantly playing several different wizarding card games, without the rowdiness that would have occurred if Harry was playing with Ron, and a small break for lunch.   
The stomach soother appeared by his plate again, and he knew Blaise had definitely seen it that time, but again nothing was said and Harry drank it quickly before eating the sandwich he’d chosen.   
He was walking with Blaise, Daphne and Tracey to dinner when Dumbledore found him.   
“Excuse me, Misses Greengrass and Davis and Mr Zabini, but might I borrow your companion for a small time?” Dumbledore smiled down at the group and Harry felt the good mood he had held onto all day just vanish.   
He waved goodbye to the Slytherins and followed Dumbledore to a room several doors down from the great hall.   
“It would cut into too much of our dinner time were we to attempt this meeting in my office, so this room will have to suffice for our needs.” the headmaster told Harry, then used his wand to cast several silencing and privacy spells on the door and walls.   
“I have spoken with Madame Pomfrey and where I would really like to tell you how disappointed I am it has gotten to such a point as this, I can also empathise with the pressures you have been under the past few years.” Dumbledore looked down over his glasses at Harry before conjuring his usual purple, overstuffed chairs and gestured for Harry to sit.   
“I have also been told of the preventative measures and treatments you will be receiving, so I simply wish to take this time we have now to let you know that should you need, I have two ears that will happily listen should you find yourself in need of one.”   
“It’s fine, Professor,” Harry said, “I’ll get back in control and I’ll be fine again,” Harry told him and fought the urge to look down at the hands he was fiddling with anxiously.   
“I have no doubt,” Dumbledore responded. “In that case, I cede the situation to the control of Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape.” Dumbledore stood and waved his wand to banish the chairs.   
“Remember Harry,” he clapped a hand on Harry’s shoulder, “I am here if you need, as are Professors Snape and McGonagal and a number of your friends I am sure.”   
Harry forced a smiled and waited until the privacy spells had been removed before heading to the great hall. He took his seat next to Blaise and spying the stomach soother already in place, snatched it up and gulped it down. There were hippogriffs stampeding through his stomach.   
The potion did little to settle the turmoil at his reminder of last night's actions and consequences. He’d succeeded in pushing it to the back of his mind all day, and now it was overwhelming him. He knew he’d been too calm the night before.   
Looking up at the head table he could see both Dumbledore and Snape watching him and so despite feeling like he needed to run from the room, he leant over and started piling random food on his plate. He ate nothing of it, occasionally bringing his empty fork up to his mouth in a semblance of eating and stirring the food around on his plate.   
Dinner seemed to last an eternity, and when the students finally stood up from the benches and starting leaving, Harry breathed a deep sigh of relief then stood so fast he knocked over his goblet of pumpkin juice.   
“Harry?“ Blaise asked looking at him in concern and Harry swallowed the saliva pooling in his mouth harshly, trying to respond.   
“Sorry, just uh, got to get to detention.” He told Blaise, who frowned.   
“It’s not for twenty minutes or so, is it?”   
“Yeah,” Harry swallowed again, “but I need to do something before.” Harry explained then after apologising again he quickly left the hall. He made his way to the closest bathroom available and just barely managed to reach the toilet before leaning over and violently heaving.   
He was sweating and his heart was racing and he knew the panic attack he had been fighting against since Dumbledore spoke to him was looming closer and closer so he did the only thing he could think of and slammed his head as hard as he could against the door of the stall.   
When that pushed back the dark edges of his panic attack, he repeated the action until his vison was going dark for an entirely different reason. The panic a little more under control, he flushed the contents of the toilet, then closed the lid to carefully clamber up to take a seat   
The throbbing in his head bought back a little more clarity, and after reaching back to ensure there was no bleeding he exited the stall to wash his hands and splash water over his face. Haunted eyes stared back at him in the mirror, and he quickly cast a glamour upon his face to hide the bruising and redness that lined his eyes.   
“Okay,” he said to himself, then repeated, “Okay.”   
He could do this. One week of Snape looming over him in the dungeons, then he would be back in the tower and hopefully forgotten about. It’s not like Snape actually liked him or cared, it was just because he was a Slytherin at the moment. Snape was obligated to pretend to care.   
He could go a week without cutting, couldn’t he? It’s not like he hadn’t stopped for a long time before. His longest had been almost a year without cutting, he could definitely go a week. He would go to his detention, and he’d see Madame Pomfrey or Snape and show them his arms and everything would eventually go back to the way it was with no one truly caring about Harry Potter.   
He spent so long in the bathroom trying to get his emotions under control that it was several minutes past seven when he finally emerged. He had however succeed, and was once again stoic and dispassionate as he made his way to the dungeons, unable to even find concern when he realised he would be almost fifteen minutes late.   
When he finally entered the classroom Professor Snape was standing by his usual table with a stack of papers in his hand and a small container of red ink.   
“You’re late, Mr Potter,” he ground out, obviously angry, but Harry was too far in his head to react with any real emotion and continued on his way through the classroom to stop and stand by his usual chair.   
Snape eyed Harry distrustfully, obviously trying to figure out what Harry’s game was, but when Harry coned to appear to be waiting patiently, Snape huffed angrily and set the paper and ink on the table with enough force to shake it.   
“You will be marking the first years’ essays on common potion plants found around Hogwarts. As you cannot be trusted with either my ingredients cupboard, nor a knife to prepare said ingredients, there is little else I can have you do.” he seemed to eye Harry for a moment   
“However, if you wish instead sit down with me and discuss the basis of your continued nightmares, you may do so instead.” This brought Harry back a little from the fog that surrounded him and his head shot up to stare at Snape before frowning.   
“I’ll do the essays, thanks,” he told the professor and reached over to pull the top one on the pile closer to him.   
“Very well,” Snape responded and left Harry with the pile of parchments to move over to his desk and his own significantly larger pile. Time passed rather quickly, with no sound but the scratch of quill on paper, and Harry occasionally mumbling quietly to himself. Once he had marked the last of his pile of essays he looked up to see Snape watching him.   
“I’m done,” he told him unnecessarily and Snape inclined his head.   
“Show me your arms,” Snape demanded and Harry rolled his sleeves up almost to his arm pits so Snape could remove the bandages and examine them. “They are healed enough now that you may forgo the bandages if you so wish.” he commented and Harry nodded once and pulled his sleeves down again.   
“You may go back to Slytherin, then Mr Potter, but be aware that I will be watching you closely.”   
Harry was exhausted by the time he made it to his dorm room in the dungeons and for the first time found himself reluctant to talk to Blaise. The Slytherin was sitting cross-legged on his bed with a large book placed over his knees but looked up and smiled at Harry when he entered the room.   
Harry forced himself to return the smile as he moved toward his own bed, seeking the privacy and security of his bed curtains. Blaise seemed to sense his reluctance to socialise and instead of pushing Harry like Ron or Hermione would have, he bid him goodnight quietly and went back to reading his book.   
Harry gratefully mumbled a “night” in return and after using the bathroom and dressing in his pyjamas in a shower stall, he climbed into his bed and pulled the curtains around him, breathing deeply as darkness settled around him.   
He cast his usual spells at the curtains, though he had no intention of falling asleep tonight and simply lay back on his pillows and closed his eyes, mentally counting the hours he had left as a temporary Slytherin. He could do this. 

 

He couldn’t do this. It was only Tuesday morning and he was hanging on to his sanity by a thread. He hadn't slept since Saturday night, Snape was constantly watching him and his Slytherins had seemed to pick up on it, as most of the sixth years and several fifth and seventh years seemed to be watching him too and last night he’d made a fool of himself when Goyle caught him blushing at the sight of a towel wrapped Blaise stepping from the shower.   
Blaise had winked at him when Goyle pointed it out, but that only served to further Harry’s mortification and have him thinking what the wink could have meant for half the night. The itch that seemed to live just under the skin had flared up so bad that he found himself desperate to scratch constantly.   
He had to report to Snape every night for a check on his arms, both to be sure his current cuts were healing and to ensure there were no new ones. He was already running out of excuses to tell his dorm mates why he disappeared for twenty minutes every night, although they thankfully kept their curiosity mostly to themselves.   
And so, with all of that weighting down on his shoulders, Harry found himself hiding in a stall in Moaning Myrtles bathroom with his blade clutched in his fingers. The Slytherin common room and dorm might be monitored, but he, Ron and Hermione had managed to brew an illicit potion in here in second year and not be discovered, so he figured that other than needing to keep a eye out for Myrtle, he should be safe from prying eyes.   
He played the blade through his fingers for several minutes, debating where he could cut without it being found if Snape decided to do a more thorough examination. Harry had finally discovered the limitations of the glamour charm – the more you had to hide away, the more power required to keep them hidden. His charms work and defence magics had been suffering from the drain on his power levels, so to save energy and not drain his core, he had taken to leaving the glamour off his arms entirely and staying hidden with long sleeves and the protection of his robes.   
Finally decided, Harry sat on the closed lid of the toilet and lifted his foot onto his lap to pull of his sock and shoe. Minutes later, he was exiting the stall with several fresh cuts and a shoe stuffed with toilet roll but feeling so much lighter. 

He was just outside the library when he ran into Hermione with a clearly reluctant Ron following behind her, his head buried in a magazine.   
“Oh, Harry,” Hermione stopped quickly, forcing Ron to swerve awkwardly so as not to run into her.   
“Hey,” he protested, “what’d you stop for?”   
“Hey Hermione, hey Ron,” Harry greeted and Ron looked up from his quidditch magazine to smile at his friend.   
“Hey mate, where you been? Those Snakes tie you up in the dungeons when you’re not in class?” he was clearly only half joking and Hermione elbowed him hard enough in the stomach that he grunted.   
“Sorry,” he mumbled, not looking at all sorry and Harry grinned at the predictability of his friend, even if he still hadn’t learnt to stop being prejudiced against the houses.   
“Sorry, guys, I’ve just been doing homework and stuff, or sitting around the common room trying to encourage inter house unity.” he smiled at them and Hermione grinned back.   
“Fair enough, Harry, you’ll be back in the tower before you know it,” Hermione replied.   
“Yeah,” Harry said then rocked back on his heels feeling strangely uncomfortable. “Anyway, I better get going, Snape has a coronary if any of us miss a meal or whatever,” he told his friends and Hermione admonished him.   
“It’s Professor Snape, Harry.” Harry just shook his head and with a wave over his shoulder he was on his way to the great hall.   
Despite the exhaustion that once again weighed down on him, making his bones feel like they were made of lead and is head of cotton wool, he had a spring in his step when he made his way over to take his seat next to Blaise.   
“You’re chipper this morning,” Daphne commented and Harry threw her a smile.   
“Yep,” he replied, succinctly and helped himself to a piece of toast and the marmalade, ignoring the potion that appeared next to him at every meal now. When he didn’t pick it up after a few minutes, it disappeared and Harry happily took a bite of his toast.   
Out of the corner of his eye he could see Snape at the teachers table, eyeing him covertly and his smile deepened, which only caused Snape to frown harder.   
“Did you sleep well then Harry?” Blaise asked and Harry drew his attention away from Snape and back to the table.   
“Sort of,” he dissembled and finished eating his slice of toast before taking an apple from the fruit bowl in front of him and taking a large bite.   
“Well, whatever you did, keep doing it,” Blaise smiled at him and Harry laughed, causing several heads to turn around and stare at him, which he ignored.   
“I plan on it,” he told the Slytherin, then stood from the table. “I left my bag in the dorm, I’d better grab it before class starts, wouldn’t want Professor Snape to ruin my good mood by giving me detention for being late to class.” He received smiles from several of the people around the table and with one last look at the teachers table to smile at Snape, he left the hall and headed back to the dungeons for his schoolbag. 

The rest of the day passed easily, with his good mood lasting well into the evening. Even his nightly check-in with Snape didn‘t bother him like it usually did, which only served to confuse the Professor and entertain Harry.   
But once he was behind the privacy of his bed curtains, the smile fell off his face and his shoulders slumped in exhaustion. He wanted to sleep. He needed to sleep. If he didn’t, it would only be a matter of time before everything caught back up to him and he risked ending back up in the hospital wing.   
Harry lay down on his pillows in the dark and hoped with all his might that he slept for just a little while before the dreams woke him. Just before he fell asleep he made sure to cast a silencing charm on his bed curtains.   
He did manage a couple of hours before the nightmares jolted him awake him a scream, but the silencing charm held and he didn’t need to run to the bathroom to vomit, so after a few seconds of incredible frustration, Harry picked up his wand and cast a lumos charm.   
He pulled the blade from his robes slung over his bedpost and settled down into his pillows. He didn’t want to do his feet again, as that might cause him to start limping and with how much he was being watched there was no way he wouldn’t be questioned.   
He eyed his hand. The scar from Umbridge had mostly faded now, and unless people were looking for it specifically no one noticed it. Harry bent his fingers in as far as they could go, making a tight fist of his left hand and drew the blade over the crease in one of his knuckles. The sting was sharp and the blood welled up quicker than he expected, causing him to hiss in surprise. Experimenting, he cleaned the blood then relaxed his hand.   
He could barely make out the small cut within the knuckle crease and with a smile on his face, proceeded to cut several more times over several of his knuckles. By the end of it there was a pleasant sting on both his hand and several drops of blood on his blankets. He cleaned up as best he could and after returning the blade to his robes, he lay down. With his hands tingling pleasantly, Harry drifted back to sleep.   
When he next awoke he sat up in shock. Finally! He’d managed to get some sleep without a potion and without more nightmares. He got up and moved out into the dorm to grab some clothes from his trunk and padded into the bathroom where Blaise and Goyle were both brushing their teeth.   
“Morning,” Harry greeted happily and Blaise turned to smile at him, then immediately frowned.   
“What’s that?“ he asked and pointed to a spot on Harry’s pyjama top. Startled Harry looked down to see a small dark stain and for a second his face displayed his panic before he got back under control. As nonchalantly as he could he pick up his shirt, revealing his un marked glamoured stomach and sniffed at the stain.   
“Uh,” he forced a blush into his cheeks, “its chocolate.” he lied and Goyle snorted out a laugh.   
Hastily, he removed the shirt and threw it into a nearby hamper then moved to a shower stall.   
“That’ll teach me to eat chocolate in bed,” he said as he pulled the curtain shut, refusing to look at Blaise lest the Slytherin read the lie on his face.   
“Suppose so,” he heard Blaise mutter before he turned on the shower head. He undressed the rest of the way and stepped under the spray. It had turned into a morning ritual to let all his glamours drop while he showered, enjoying the relief as the spell stopped draining on his magic.   
The regular meals he’d eaten over the last couple of days were already helping fill him out a little more and where he still looked amazingly thin, he no longer looked like one of those children he used to see on the ads on the Dursleys television.   
His scars though, they were as stark as ever against his skin, and so numerous he’d given up counting them long ago. He only knew he’d finally given himself more than his uncle had ever given him, even if his back half was covered in them.   
When he washed his hair, the sting of the soap on his knuckles was a pleasant reminder of his latest cuts and brought his panic from earlier back down so that by the time he was out of the shower, re glamoured and dressed, he was feeling as light as he had yesterday, which he figured was as close to happy as he was ever going to get.   
He walked down to the great hall with all his new friends from sixth year and took his usual seat next to Blaise. Once again ignoring the potions vial that appeared in front of his plate, he helped himself to a bowl of fruit salad and munched quietly as conversation went on around him.   
The day passed uneventfully until he was sitting in the Slytherin common room playing a game of chess with Blaise, who was attempting to teach him strategy quite unsuccessfully. His hand was hovering over a rook, trying to decide what to do when Blaise reached out and snatched it into his own.   
“What happened to your hand?” he asked and moved to pull his hand closer and inspect it. Harrry snatched his hand back and pulled it into his chest before realising that action spoke volumes more than he wanted.   
“Nothing,” he lied and Blaise looked at him with a raised eye brow.   
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he pointed out and Harry grimaced, attempting to think on his feet even as his heart thudded in his chest.  
“I was helping Neville in one of the greenhouses earlier and some plant got me,” he finally responded and Blaise’s eyebrow raised even higher.   
“We had herbology with you, Harry.” he pointed out and Harry almost groaned in frustration.   
“I meant after school. Like, earlier, when I disappeared, I was going to help Neville, then the plant got me and I decided he could get someone who actually knew what they were doing to help him.” Shit this lie was getting more and more detailed and would completely unravel if Blaise decided to ask Neville about it. Rule number one of lying was keep it simple, for fucks sake.   
Blaise eyed him for a moment longer. “Why didn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey? She would have fixed your hand in minutes.” Blaise pointed out and Harry shrugged his shoulders.   
“She sees me enough,” he replied honestly and Blaise was forced to smile.   
“You are a little accident prone,” he said.   
“Oy,” Harry protested, then laughed, “Okay, I’ll give you that one.”   
Harry leaned over the board and moved his rook and the game continued so by the time Blaise had soundly defeated him, his heart was beating normally and the Slytherin was no longer eyeing him worriedly.   
That night though, Blaise grabbed Harry’s hand in his right before Harry went to climb into bed and he was forced to turn and face him. He blushed again at finding his hand in Blaise’s and his heart leaped a little when he noticed the blush staining Blaise’s cheeks as well.   
“I’ll be here, Harry,” he said, “if and when you want someone to talk to. I’ll be here.” Blaise didn’t let him respond, only squeezed his hand once then let go and stepped quickly across the room to climb into his bed and pull the curtains shut. Harry didn’t sleep that night.   
Friday morning arrived, and he had several more cuts adorning his feet and hips and inner thighs, but he’d managed to last the entire week in Slytherin without earning more detentions or being killed in his bed. He’d even gotten to sleep most nights.   
There was only one more day and one more night to get through and he would be back in the tower. He’d miss the company of some of the Slytherins, but they could still meet outside classes and at meals. And hopefully being further away from Snape would result in the man backing off in his ‘care’ and Harry could move about the castle without feeling like he was constantly being watched.   
“Just one more day,” he mumbled.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve 

The day moved fairly quickly with Harry attending his classes and ensuring he did not lose any points or was late to class or meals. He didn’t want Snape to have any excuse to hang around once he’d moved back to the tower. 

Despite having spent a week in the common room, it was still a little daunting to enter it Friday night after dinner and find it relatively empty and very quiet. Snape was there too, doing his usual rounds of talking to students and Harry frowned when Snape spied him in the doorway and headed over before Harry could make it to his dorm room. 

“Mr Potter, just the person I was hoping to see.” Harry grimaced and as Blaise moved off to give them some privacy he gave Harry a wink behind the professors back. Harry smiled at him in return, causing Snape’s eyes to narrow in suspicion for a moment. 

“I think it best if we move to my office, Mr Potter.” he told Harry and left the common room before Harry could respond. He rolled his eyes and followed reluctantly after, trailing him in silence until they reached the office and the door was secured behind them. 

“Take a seat,” Snape told him and indicated the hard backed chair in front of his desk. Harry sat and watched as Snape moved around his desk and took a seat in his own chair opposite Harry. 

“Before I begin, show me your arms,” Snape told him and Harry fought another eye roll before rolling his sleeves up to his arm pits. The cuts he’d made a week ago were fading, thanks to Snape’s potions, and joined the other scars in a sea of silver and white and Harry pulled his sleeves down as soon as he could. 

“Thank you, Mr Potter,” Snape said and Harry looked up from staring at his hands in surprise, an action Snape chose to ignore as he continued. “I can only imagine the blow it must be to your pride and privacy to come here nightly and reveal the proof of your...difficulties. I am however, going to insist you keep doing so.” 

When Harry opened his mouth to protest, Snape held his hand up to silence him. “I am not naive nor stupid, Mr Potter. This addiction, like any addiction, can be difficult to beat and it would be of no surprise if you were to relapse and repeat the actions in a fit of pique.” 

Harry’s frown deepened at Snape’s choice in words, but since he couldn’t honestly say he would never do it again, and he was sure if he tried Snape would know immediately that he was lying, Harry chose instead to keep his mouth shut and just glare at the professor. 

“That being said, I will remind you that it does not need to be me giving you the inspection. Madame Pomfrey could inspect you as well.” Harry nodded his head and stood up. 

“Can I go now?“ he asked sullenly and Snape inclined his head. 

“Very well,” he answered and Harry almost ran to the door in his eagerness to leave. Just as he reached the handle, Snape spoke once more. “You may be returning to the tower tomorrow, Mr Potter, but my office will be here should you need something.” 

Harry’s jaw dropped at the almost friendly tone in the professor’s words and left the office before he could make a fool out of himself. When he reached the Slytherin common room, he found Blaise set up in a corner with what was probably the only overly comfortable chairs in the whole room and a chess board all set up. 

“Hey,” he greeted, “thought we could have a last game before you returned to that atrociously decorated common room of yours tomorrow.” Harry smiled and sat down. 

“Sure, but don’t forget, you‘re an honorary Gryffindor, you’re welcome in our common room now.” 

“And you in ours,” Blaise returned and both boys shared a smile before settling into their game. Several games later and Harry had even managed to win one and they were both ready for bed. They stood together in the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and when Blaise hip checked Harry he was happy to find his cheeks didn’t burn bright red, and instead he was able to push Blaise away with his own hip. 

He was smiling when he climbed into bed and closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. 

Several hours later he woke, throat dry and sore and stomach swirling with nausea and he barrelled from his bed noisily to slam into the bathroom. He hastily moved into a cubicle and slammed the door shut, falling to his knees hard enough that he was sure there would be bruises. 

Dinner was soon floating in the bowl in front of him and tears dripped from his eyes from the memory of the dream and the violence of his heaving. He heard Blaise knock on the door and call out, but was only able to groan in response before he leant back over the bowl and vomited again. 

“Harry,” he heard the stall door crack open and then the sound of Blaise inhaling loudly. Unsure what the issue was, but finished throwing up for now, he closed the toilet lid and flushed before turning a little to lean against the wall. Blaise stood in the doorway with his glasses clenched in his hand and a face pale with shock. 

“I didn’t...” he started and Harry looked at him, “I mean, I saw the hand, and I thought... but I didn’t...” he mumbled out and Harry frowned in confusion before holding his hand up impatiently for his glasses. 

“What are you on about,” he snapped, stomach in pain from the harsh muscle contractions he’d just experienced and head pounding too hard to think. 

“What happened to your feet?” Blaise asked and Harry looked puzzled for a second before understanding lit his face and panic took over. 

“You can’t say anything,” he told Blaise, sensing the de ja vu in the situation. “It’s fine, I’m fine,” he told the Slytherin and Blaise backed up out of the cubicle to lean against the sinks. 

“Harry,” he started and Harry shook his head vigorously. 

“No,” he said firmly and Blaise wrapped his arms around his body protectively. They were saved from further argument by the sound of Snape’s voice in the bedroom talking with Goyle and Crabbe quietly. 

“Shit,” Harry said, “the stupid fucking wards in this stupid fucking bathroom.” Blaise looked at him in some confusion but Harry wasn’t really in the mood to explain. Instead he stood and moved out of the stall to wash his face and take several mouthfuls of water. There was a brief knock on the door, then Snape entered, closing it behind himself as soon as he was through. 

“Mr Potter, Mr Zabini, which of you was ill just now?” Snape asked, though it was clear the way he was examining Harry that he already knew the answer. 

“I had a bad dream,” Harry told him petulantly and crossed his arms over his chest. “There was no need to come here, I’m fine now.” 

“Is that so, Mr Potter?” Harry nodded then growled angrily when Snape turned toward Blaise, ignoring Harry. 

“Could you explain how you saw the situation, Mr Zabini?” Snape requested and Blaise looked at Harry quickly before turning away. 

“I was woken by a loud thump and sat up in time to see Harry race into the bathroom. All of us could hear him in there though, so I grabbed his glasses for him and came in to see if there was anything I could do to help.” Blaise explained and Snape pursed his lips. 

“You have been woken like this before,” he stated and Blaise looked guilty but nodded. 

“When I was in Gryffindor,” he told his head of house who nodded. 

“Then I have to ask, after witnessing this situation, if you have any concerns you feel may be pertinent.” Snape asked while Harry protested. 

“I’m right here, ask me that!” he exclaimed. Snape didn’t even bothering turning to look at Harry, merely kept his gaze on Blaise while he answered. 

“I have recently discovered your penchant to claim you are “fine” in even the most dire of situations so you must forgive me for not taking your answers at face value. Now, Mr Zabini, do you have any concerns?” 

Behind Professor Snape, Blaise could see Harry shaking his head and for a second it looked like he wasn’t going to say anything, then he looked at Harry and sent him a pleading look of apology. 

“Harry had cuts on his knuckles, and I didn’t believe the story he told me, but thought maybe he’d punched a tree or something. I mean, we’ve all done it when we’ve gotten angry enough and so I didn’t push. But then there was chocolate, or blood, on his pyjama shirt, and then his feet and his back and I don’t know what to think or do now.” Blaise babbled, hyper-ventilating in his panic a little and Snape frowned before conjuring a chair and forcing the Slytherin to take seat. 

Harry backed up until he was in the toilet stall again and wedged himself into the back corner, this was not going to end well. He could see Blaise looking at him clearly overwhelmed but just looked back at him blankly before he buried his head into his knees. 

“You will need to explain the inane blather you just spouted Mr Zabini, I understood less than half of what you said.” 

“Harry had what I thought could be blood on his pyjama shirt the other night, and he had strange cuts on his hands, and I just brushed off any suspicions. But Professor, there’s cuts all over the bottom of his feet.” Blaise told the Professor, his tone giving away just how young and lost he was feeling. Snape looked over to where Harry was wedged into the stall and frowned before turning back to Blaise. 

“You also mentioned his back,” he pointed out and raised an eye brow when the Slytherin flinched and looked over at Harry with such a sorry look on his face. Snape allowed him a few moments to recollect himself then prodded again. 

“Harry has scars all over his back,” he finally spat out, guilt clearly etched into his face in the frown on his forehead and the wrinkles around his down turned mouth. 

Snape’s eyebrows couldn’t get any higher. “Did he explain the existence of these scars?” he pushed and Blaise nodded his head but refused to say any more. He’d done enough damage to his friendship tonight, he wasn’t going to share anything else. 

“Very well, I have ordered hot chocolate for you, it is by your bed. I suggest you drink it, then place a silencing charm on your hangings and go back to sleep. There is little more that you can do and it is very early.” Blaise nodded and reluctantly stood up, throwing Harry one last look of apology before leaving the room. 

“I suggest you remove yourself from that corner before I am forced to remove you,” Snape said to Harry and then waited several minutes for him to respond. When he finally uncurled and stood up to shuffle from the stall his eyes were red rimmed and his cheeks splotched. His wet eye lashes framed his wide green eyes and showed his true age and Snape felt the ridiculous urge to pull the wretched thing into a hug. 

Instead he used his wand to point Harry to the chair Blaise had abandoned, then conjured another for himself. 

“I honestly do not know where to begin,” Mr Potter. 

“Then don’t,” Harry croaked in response, “just leave me alone.” 

“You know I can‘t do that,” Snape told the boy, “ particularly after Mr Zabini’s revelations. I cannot be sure you will not cause even further harm to yourself.” Harry flinched when Snape correctly guessed what would happen and fought more tears that threatened to fall. 

“We will do this right, Mr Potter. You will accompany me to the hospital wing once more, and won’t Poppy be impressed at the early hour, and we will examine you and treat any wounds, then discuss with Albus just who we can bring in to get your head put back on right.” 

Harry shrunk down in his chair and refused to move until Snape waved his wand in an unfamiliar gesture then headed towards the door. Harry felt a sharp tug on his wrist and was powerless to fight the urge to follow his professor. When he grunted in confusion and annoyance, Snape turned to smile at him. 

“A tethering spell,” he explained, “for unruly children.” he smirked at Harry. 

Unable to fight the spell and alternating between utter terror and the dissociation he often sought now, Harry followed Snape out of the bathroom. Thankfully all the boys were back in their beds with their curtains drawn and Harry was able to pretend they were asleep and knew nothing about what was going on. 

Before they left, Snape accioed a pair of Harry’s socks and waited while he pulled them on. 

For the third time in less than a month, Harry was once again walked to the hospital wing in the middle of the night and in utter silence. Snape sent his patronus off while they were still traversing the halls, so that by the time they reached the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey was already there. 

There were two occupied beds tonight and Harry scowled and moved quickly over to the bed he liked best. Snape and Madame Pomfrey followed him without a word and once he was seated Madame Pomfrey shut the curtains and cast several privacy spells whilst Snape released the tether spell. 

“Disrobe,” Snape told him once all the spells were cast and Harry glared at him. 

“It’s my feet,” he said exasperated, “I don’t need to undress so you can look at my bloody feet.” 

“Mr Zabini also mentioned something about your back, Mr Potter. I also hate to presume but feel I am safe in doing so, and feel I am correct in saying that it is not ‘just your feet’.” 

Throwing daggers at the professor, Harry stood back off the bed and pulled his pyjamas off until he was standing in his underwear. The glamour held on the rest of his body, though his arms were obviously showing. 

“Sit,” Snape told him and he did so with a frustrated huff of breath. Madame Pomfrey remained silent until he was settled back on the pillows then moved round to stand at the foot of the bed, where she grabbed one of Harry’s feet and removed the sock. 

“Really, Mr Potter,” she said and glared up at Harry, “ on your feet?” Harry shrugged his shoulders. 

“Thought they wouldn’t be seen,” he explained and Snape moved around the bed to examine the foot Madame Pomfrey was holding. Harry knew it looked a little mangled, much as his other one did, but it wasn’t easy to cut on the bottom on one’s foot and he’d done it a few times over the last week. 

Madame Pomfrey silently slathered his feet in a thick yellow potion and then put his socks back on, causing Harry to grimace as the cream was squished between his toes. 

Both Madame Pomfrey and Professor Snape moved to stand either side of Harry’s bed and looked down at him. 

“Now your glamours, Mr Potter,” Madame Pomfrey said. “Remember, it may feel a little uncomfortable.” Harry shook his head and moved up as close to the head of the bed as he could, drawing his knees into his chest and pushing his back against the bars of the head rest. He was ignored. 

“Finite Incantatum,”Madame Pomfrey intoned three times in a row and despite Harry’s best efforts to hold onto them, he felt the strange tingle run all over his body and knew every single glamour he’d had was gone. 

“Well, at least it looks like you’ve gained some weight,” Madame Pomfrey was grim as she took in what she could see of Harry’s calves and thighs. “Lie straight please, Harry,” she told him and when he ignored her Snape stepped forward to force his hands away from his knees and push on his shoulder until he lay down. 

He was angry and scared and humiliated and to add to everything he could feel tears forming in his eyes and was helpless to stop them. The two adults examined Harry silently, taking in the numerous cuts and scars lining Harry’s legs and the few on his stomach and extending out from the elastic of his boxers. 

“None of these seem to need dressing too badly but for a couple on your hips, but there is scarring that is years old, as the ones on your arms. How did you manage to hide these the first time I examined you?” Madame Pomfrey asked. 

“I just focussed on letting you see my arms and leaving the rest glamoured,” Harry admitted and Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips before rubbing the same yellow potion on his feet into the cuts by his hipbone. 

“The evidence in front of us speaks of years of this behaviour, Mr Potter, just how long exactly has this been going on?” Snape asked as he examined Harry’s thighs. 

Feeling helpless and overwhelmed and knowing the questions were only bound to get harder to answer, Harry decided he could at least give Snape this one. 

“Since I was eleven,” he confessed and watched both adults pale. Madame Pomfrey’s lips pursed so far they were almost non-existent and Snape’s eyebrows were half way up his brow. Harry felt a bubble of hysterical laughter form and was unable to keep it from erupting out briefly. 

Madame Pomfrey summoned a vial and offered it to Harry, “a calming draught,” she explained and he reached for it without hesitation. Before the potion could begin to work Snape told him to lean forward so they could examine his back and Harry felt his heart start to race. Within seconds he was gasping for breath in a complete panic. 

“Mr Potter!” Madame Pomfrey scolded but was unable to get through to him. When she reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, he reacted instinctively. He shot up off the bed and raced towards the exit despite the fact he was practically naked. Snape was too quick though and shot off a spell, locking the doors and thus locking him in. 

This further panicked Harry, he was no longer thinking clearly. A quick look around the room and he was barrelling his way towards a large storage cabinet near the small bathroom. The door was unlocked and he was inside and surrounded by spare healers’ robes and hospital pyjamas before either of the adults could stop him. 

The door was still open, but Harry was too hysteric to do anything but try and draw in breath. He could hear Madame Pomfrey and Snape arguing loudly and forced himself to focus on the sound of their voices and not the terror racing through his veins. 

His hands scrabbled around in the small space pulling at his hair and scratching at the back of his neck and the pain helped ground him further. 

By the time a third voice had joined the conversation the panic attack had receded enough that he could feel his cheeks heating at his actions. There was no way he was coming out of the cupboard though, he’d just stay in here forever. 

“Harry, my boy, why don’t you come out of there?” Harry heard Dumbledore approach the cupboard and pulled his legs in even further, burying his head in his knees and trying to block out the sound of the headmaster’s voice. 

“Come on, Mr Potter, you cannot remain in the cupboard the whole night.” Madame Pomfrey huffed out and Harry shook his head even though he knew no one could see what he was doing. The calming potion was finally starting to work though, and as the adrenaline slowly left his body, Harry could feel himself crashing. 

Reluctantly he crawled from the cupboard and tried to stand, but felt his knees buckle beneath him. Before he could fall however, Snape reached out and grasped his elbow roughly, pursing his lips when he got close enough to see the scratches Harry had inflicted on his neck. 

Harry had moved two steps away from the cupboard when he heard a loud gasp from behind him and it was with Madame Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore staring horrified at his back that he remembered why he’d crawled into the cupboard in the first place. Snape must have sensed his intentions to crawl back in, as his grip on his arm tightened further and Harry was lead back over to his bed. 

The other adults followed and as soon as they stepped far enough in, Madame Pomfrey re-drew the curtains around his bed. 

“Don’t move please, Harry,” she asked, although Harry was aware enough to be angry that it wasn’t really a request but a suggestion. Dumbledore had paused right by the curtains and continued to eye Harry with an expression of horror, all eye twinkling completely supressed. 

Angry now at the whole situation and fuzzy headed and tired, Harry crossed his arms over his chest and turned his back to them all. They could look all they liked and he would ignore them for as long as he liked. He flinched when a finger reached out and traced one of the scars that he knew criss-crossed the entire back half of his body. 

Most would be faded silver and purple, but he knew the ones his uncle had inflicted less than a month ago would still be a pale red/pink colour and be completely obvious that he continued to be whipped even now. 

He stood like that, with his back to everyone and his arms crossed across his chest for several minutes, and even when he felt Madame Pomfrey treating the small welts he’d just given himself, he continued to ignore them. 

“You can lie down now, if you like, Harry” Madame Pomfrey finally told him and without a word Harry clambered into the bed and lay on his side, pulling his knees into his chest and hiding his face once more. 

“How long?” Snape asked and Harry lifted his head to eye the professor, a mirthless laugh on his lips. 

“Since I was eleven,” he said, then hid his face again and refused to answer any more questions. His limbs were heavy with fatigue and his head thick with emotions and he squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he could fall asleep for just a little while and stop hearing the adults talking about him. 

“What happened, Severus?” Dumbledore asked. 

“My ward alarm went off again and I found him in the bathroom with Blaise Zabini, clearly having just vomited. He tried to play it off as nothing, but when questioned, Zabini admitted to having seen cuts on the bottom of Potter’s feet and mentioned seeing whip marking on his back.” 

“I brought him here and it was discovered that he had been applying and maintaining a full body glamour to hide years of self-injury.” Snape paused for a moment and then continued. 

“Poppy and I examined the injuries to determine whether they needed treatment and Potter was obviously angry and upset but stayed relatively calm. It was only when we asked him to reveal his back that he truly panicked and this led to his flight into the cupboard.” 

“Years, Albus, he has been hiding those scars for years!” Madame Pomfrey exclaimed. “All the times I had him in here and I knew nothing!” 

“Do not be too hard on yourself Poppy, you couldn’t have known and people in Harry’s situation are experts at hiding what they do not want to be found. It is also clear by the evidence, that this summer’s abuse is where the worse of the scarring comes from.” Professor Snape spoke gently to the medi-witch and Harry rolled his eyes at the gently tone coming from the stern professor. 

“I just...” Madame Pomfrey started but drifted off before she finished. 

“Go back to bed, Poppy.” Harry heard Dumbledore tell Madame Pomfrey. “It’s still quite late, or early, and there will be much to do in the morning. I will sit with our young charge here until you return.” Harry could hear Madame Pomfrey begin to argue, but she was shushed and Harry couldn't hear what Dumbledore murmured to her. A minute later Harry heard the doors open and close. 

“You too, Severus, my boy. You will have much to do too, I am sure. Try and get a little more sleep.” 

“What about you?” Snape questioned. “You don’t believe you will have a lot to complete once the day officially dawns?” 

“I am an old man, Severus, I need little sleep.” Harry could hear the smile in Dumbledore’s voice before it was replaced with a wan tone. “Go. I will keep my eye on him.” 

Harry heard the door open and close and then Dumbledore’s footsteps as he approached the bed. A chair was summoned and Harry heard him settle noisily, but still jumped when the hand landed on his shoulder. 

“You sleep, too, Harry my dear, today will be exhausting for all.” 

Harry wanted to sit up and yell and swear and throw things before escaping the hospital wing and just run, but he felt so heavy and his eyes were tight and sore and his mind a fog. He closed his eyes and was soon asleep, feeling Dumbledore place a blanket over him just before he slipped under.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen 

 

The sun was truly in the sky when he next awoke and the chair beside his bed abandoned. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, not certain what he was doing, but not wanting to just lie there. 

He didn’t get to move any further though as Madame Pomfrey came bustling out of her office and moved directly over to him. 

“Lie back down, please, Mr Potter.” she told him and placed a hand on his shoulder to gently encourage him to obey. “You will not going anywhere for a while yet, I should think.” 

Harry scowled but did as he was told, making sure to bring the blanket back up over his naked shoulders. He had no idea where his clothes had gone and neither had he been given any pyjamas. 

Madame Pomfrey smiled at him like she knew what he was thinking and used her wand to summon a pair 

“It was decided that you were less likely to attempt escape if you had no clothing, although from the looks of things when I first got here you’d decided that issue wasn’t going to stop you.” Harry blushed and then frowned at her and Madame Pomfrey gave him a small smile. 

“You may get dressed and then I would like you to eat some lunch,” she told him. 

Harry stood up off the bed, fighting back a wave of dizziness and hastily pulled the pants and shirt on, frowning at Madame Pomfrey as she continued to stand by the bed. When he moved off to go to the bathroom she followed just behind him and he turned to look at her, confused. 

“I'm just going to the loo, not running away.” he told her. 

“I know Harry, but after the revelations of last night, and considering we have yet to fully discuss them, you are officially on ‘suicide watch’.” 

“What the hell?” Harry exclaimed loudly, then looked around glad to see that the occupied beds from last night were now empty. “I’m not fucking suicidal! I would’ve done it by now if I was!” 

“See now, Harry, that declaration just there is not comforting,” Madame Pomfrey pointed out. “However, regardless of whether you are suicidal or not, you are still at risk of causing harm to yourself. You cannot be alone, and I believe it may be a long while yet when you will be left to your own devices.” 

Harry groaned and considered not using the bathroom, but it had been many hours since he’d last gone so instead, cheeks flaming with heat he stuck his chin out and continued his way to the bathroom. 

“I will not come in Harry, but the door will remain open and I will wait in the doorway with my back turned. If I call you and you fail to respond, or if you are taking longer than necessary, I will enter.” Madame Pomfrey warned him. 

“Whatever,” he replied sullenly. 

Minutes later he was back in his bed, cheeks still red and completely ignoring the medi-witch as she bustled around the room. A house elf popped in quietly with a tray containing a glass of juice and several types of sandwiches, and after placing the tray on Harry’s bedside table, she sat down. 

Harry disregarded her attention and picked a sandwich at random. It tasted like saw dust in his mouth but he knew if he didn’t eat something, Madame Pomfrey would make a big issue about it and it just wasn’t worth it. 

He only managed the one, so that by the time Dumbledore and Snape traipsed into the hospital wing he was sitting with his arms across his chest and frowning at the wall opposite his bed. 

“How are you this afternoon, my boy” Dumbledore asked as he reached the bed and before Harry could give an acerbic remark, Professor Snape snorted. 

“Really, Albus, how do you think he is?” he asked causing Harry to let out a snort of his own. 

“Yes, well, I suppose that is what we are here to assess.” Dumbledore responded and summoned two more chairs to place beside the one already next to Harry’s bed. All three adults sat down and looked at Harry, causing him to blush once again and fight the urge to hide under the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. 

“I’m fine,” he answered causing Snape to growl. 

“I will take ten points for every time you use that as a descriptor from now on, Mr Potter,” he said and Harry turned to smile at him bitterly. 

“From which house, Professor?” he asked innocently and Madame Pomfrey let out a small cough. 

“That’s enough,” Dumbledore interrupted before tempers could fray any further. “We don’t think that is very true Harry,” Dumbledore spoke gently, “and yet we can’t help you if you do not allow us to.” 

Harry shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know if I want help,” he admitted honestly and Dumbledore seemed to deflate before he sat up straighter. 

“Well that is something we will work on then, my dear boy, until then there are just a few questions we would like answered.” 

Harry shrugged his shoulders again and allowed himself to nestle further into his blanket, attempting to use it like a shield. 

“Who?” Snape asked succinctly and Harry didn’t even bother to pretend to not understand. 

“My uncle,” he explained, but refrained from going into detail. He would answer their questions if he felt like it would get him out of the hospital wing faster, but he wasn't going to offer up information they didn’t need. 

“Why?” Snape asked just as shortly and Harry struggled for a moment to come up with an answer. 

“He hates me,” he finally explained and when all the adults continued to look at him without asking more questions he rolled his eyes but continued. 

“He hates my parentage, and my magic, and me.” 

“So he whipped you?” Dumbledore pushed and Harry looked down at his hands for a moment. 

“Since I returned home after first year.” he whispered. “He was so angry with me for having come here to learn magic, and then having dared come back there.” 

“Does he hit you with anything else, an object or his hand, or does he stick with the belt?” Snape asked and Harry looked over at him before turning back to his hands. 

“Before Hogwarts, it was more of them just letting Dudley beat me up. Aunt Petunia would aim at me with the frying pan or wooden spoon or something, but mostly back then it was time in my cupboard or more chores or something.” Harry explained then went pale when he realised he had just shared more information with them that he had intended. 

“Cupboard?” Dumbledore asked and Harry shook his head rapidly before pulling the blanket completely over his head. 

“Mr Potter,” he heard Snape drawl before his blanket was pulled from his fists and placed back around his shoulders. “You cannot run from this conversation. It is one that we are going to have, must have, if you wish to stay within the school and not be confined to a ward in St Mungo’s,” when receiving confirming nods from both Madame Pomfrey and Dumbledore, Harry paled. 

“Fine,” fighting to stay angry with them so the fear and uncertainty wouldn‘t overwhelm him, he sat up and crossing his arms across his chest he glared at all of them before he continued. 

“Before my letter, my bedroom was the cupboard under the stairs. I believed for a long time that you were aware of this, as my letter was addressed there and it wasn’t really until last year that I learnt the letters are addressed by magic.” He took a deep breath before going on. 

“Dudley had a second bedroom, and there was a guest room for Aunt Marge, but I was delegated to the storage space under the stairs. I was put there whenever my Aunt or Uncle didn’t want me around, or when all my chores were done.” 

“It wasn't too bad though,” he tried to lighten the icy atmosphere in the room, “Dudley couldn’t get to me in there by the time he was six, he was too big to fit through the door.” Harry tried to smile but it fell flat and instead just waited for the next question. 

“Why didn’t you say something to someone?” Madame Pomfrey asked and Harry grunted out a small incredulous laugh. 

“I did!” he exclaimed, “when I was in primary school I told a teacher that I was made to sleep in the cupboard and I wasn‘t given enough food to eat, but she talked with the Dursleys and they told her I was lying, then kept me home and in the cupboard for a week afterwards as punishment.” 

“Then,” Harry’s voice broke, “I get here and think you all know about it but don’t care. Ron and the Weasley twins literally broke me out of my room second year, and no one cared about that, and McGonagall never listens when I go to her for ANYTHING. What more do you want from me?” he screamed the last sentence then threw himself down on his bed to hide his face in his pillow. 

“I take it then, that your issues with food this year stem from long term food withholding and malnutrition.?” He heard Snape ask and just nodded his head. 

“I’m done now,” his voice was muffled by his pillow, “no more fucking questions.” 

The adults, after realising they would get nothing more from Harry right now all stood from their seats and moved away from the bed to talk quietly. Harry pulled the blanket from his head to listen in. 

“I think it may be necessary to invoke the contract Severus.” He heard Dumbledore mumble and Snape growled before answering. 

“I am not a miracle worker, Albus, the boy needs far more than I can give him. Furthermore, you cannot expect me to be there every minute of the day!” Snape snarled his response and Harry heard them move off further. 

“Be that as it may, we must try.” Harry heard footsteps storm from the room before another set of footsteps approached his bed. 

“You will remain here for now, Mr Potter. Your friends have been alerted as to your presence here so they would not incite a riot when it was discovered you were missing. They have also been advised to leave you alone.” Harry snorted, figuring he’d have a few more hours of peace before Hermione and Ron tried to sneak in and see him. 

“I will return later this evening when it has been decided what needs to be done with your best interests in mind.” Dumbledore pet Harry’s ankle briefly before he too left the infirmary and Madame Pomfrey approached. 

“Rest, Harry. It has been a difficult morning for all.” 

Harry didn’t bother responding, only made sure the blanket covered his head again and closed his eyes against the world.. 

 

He was unable to sleep however, so when he heard the sound of whispering approach his bed, he sat up and scowled at Ron and Hermione as they approached his bed. 

“Oh Harry,” Hermione mumbled when he sat up and she hesitated mid-step for a moment before coming closer to the bed, taking one of the abandoned chairs from earlier. Ron stopped at the foot of his bed and just stared at him with an unreadable expression on his face. 

“What?” Harry snarled at his friends and both of them flinched. 

“Is it true?” Ron finally asked after several awkward moments. 

“What?” Harry finally barked and both of his friends flinched again before Hermione leant forward to lay a reassuring hand on Harry’s arm. He fought the urge to snatch it back, knowing that would only hurt her unnecessarily and instead just continued to frown at them. 

“There’s a rumour going around the school from a second year Hufflepuff who was in here last night when you came in.” Hermione explained gently, like she was afraid Harry would shatter and so he did snatch his arm away from her, crossing both across his chest defensively. 

“What rumour?” he demanded, although panic was already starting to build up and he felt the edges of his vision blur even as his heart rate sped up. 

“Something happened, but you panicked and hid in some closet. They also mentioned seeing numerus scars on your body. Everyone is saying there was another attack, only there must have been a mental attack as well because you’d clearly gone crazy attempting to hide in a closet.” Ron explained and then rubbed the back of his neck as his cheeks pinked up. 

“Seriously?!” Harry asked and then started laughing as the panic lessened up and his heart started to slow down. “Of all the possible rumours...” he trailed off and his friends looked at him expectantly. 

“So you weren’t hurt?” Hermione asked. “Then why are you in the hospital wing?” she was clearly confused and Harry laughed again, this one sounding more hollow than the one before. 

“Doesn’t fucking matter,” he replied moodily and his friends looked confused. 

“I don’t understand?” Hermione pushed and Harry saw red yet again. 

“Maybe it’s not for you to understand!” he shouted and saw Ron puff up in indignation. “Dumbledore and Pomfrey finally discovered just how loving my relatives have been to me over the years, and just how well I’ve treated myself.” 

When Hermione opened her mouth to speak again, Harry sat up straight to poke a finger at her roughly. 

“No, just no, Hermione. In this, you don’t need to know everything, and I don’t need to tell you!” he exclaimed and Ron finally reacted. 

“Hey,” he snapped, “I don’t bloody well know what’s going on right now, but you don’t get to speak to her that way. She’s done nothing to you!” He stepped forward to stand in front of Hermione where she sat, shocked still. 

“Whatever, Ron, just fuck off,” Harry said quietly and laying down he turned his back on the both of them and squeezed his eyes shut. 

“Come on, ‘Mione.” he heard Ron mutter quietly. Hearing Hermione’s sniffles he almost sat up and apologised, but an apology would mean an explanation and enough people knew his secrets, he wasn't sure he wanted to share them with more, even if they were so called friends. 

Madame Pomfrey’s office door opened and he scowled at the witch as she approached his bed. 

“You could have stopped that whenever you wanted,” he grumped at her and she gave him an apologetic smile. 

“I thought they would be good for you, Mr Potter, thought I am angry to hear the students from last night are sharing information even if it is incorrect.” Harry shrugged his shoulders the best he could laying down and then proceeded to ignore her as she moved about the room. 

Harry was just beginning to grow bored with just lying there and was about to request a magazine or book when the doors opened once more and Snape strode inside, his usual trademark scowl deeper than normal. 

He approached Madame Pomfrey and spoke with her for several long minutes before she nodded her head and moved back into her office, leaving Harry and Snape alone. Snape moved over toward Harry’s bed and Harry watched him apprehensively. 

“Up, Potter, you will be following me.” as he spoked his scowl deepened even further and Harry resisted the urge to shrink away from the man. 

“Why?” he asked and saw Snape clench his jaw. 

“Because,” he spat out between clenched teeth, “you are free to leave the infirmary, but you will still be staying where a close eye can be kept on you.” 

“But I was supposed to go back to the tower tonight, where am I going to go?” Harry asked in alarm. 

“Albus, in all his wisdom, wished to have an official house re-sort, with you being moved to Slytherin. I, for your sake and mine, managed to convince him to keep things less official. Regardless of the facts, you will be moved into quarters far safer than the ones you have been in.” he explained and Harry frowned and crossed his arms once more. 

“What the bloody hell are you on about?” he demanded. 

“Detention, Potter, tonight at seven for your insistence in continuing to use such language.” Snape snapped out and Harry glared at him, refusing to move. 

“You will dress and follow me, or I will stun you and levitate you as you are.” Snape ground out and Harry observed him for a moment before realising he was serious. Reluctantly, he stood up and snatched the robes Snape offered, intending to move into the bathroom to change. 

“There is no point, Potter, I will have to watch you whether you are in there or out here,” Snape explained and Harry blushed a deep red and spluttered a bit before realising it was useless and just dressed himself as quickly as he could. Snape stood by, one eye brow raised the entire time and Harry did the best he could to ignore the man’s presence. 

“Follow me,” he said and moved towards the door in a fast stride, forcing Harry to run to keep up with his long legs. Harry followed him this way all the way down to the dungeons, while several people stopped to stare at him in the halls. When they reached the section of wall that would reveal the Slytherin common room however, they moved further down the dank hall to a different section of wall. When Harry questioned what they were doing, Snape merely paused in his stride long enough to direct his scowl at Harry before moving on. 

He spoke a password too quietly for Harry to hear, and the wall formed into a doorway leading to a lavishly decorated sitting room, surrounded by bookshelves. Snape pushed Harry in ahead of him and as he stepped through he closed the door. 

“Where are we?” Harry asked. 

“My quarters, Mr Potter and I expect you to treat them as you should.” 

“What?” Harry spluttered, “why am I here?” 

“For the foreseeable future, you will reside in my spare bedroom.” Snape told him shortly and moved off down a passage, forcing Harry to follow him. He pointed out doors as they passed. 

“My personal laboratory, which you may never enter, my bedroom, the shared bathroom, and your room,” he drawled before opening the last door at the end of the narrow hall. Harry moved in and took in the simple bed and desk in the otherwise empty room. 

“What the bloody hell is going on?” he asked. 

“You will receive another detention if you are not careful, Potter,” Snape pointed out and Harry bit his tongue to avoid telling Snape where he could shove his detentions. 

“I don’t understand, Professor,” he managed to ground out. 

“I don’t imagine you would, Mr Potter, though one would think you would be used to such an outcome by now.” Harry bit his tongue again, this time grimacing at the sharp sting and Snape narrowed his eyes. 

“You are here, because you cannot be trusted,” Snape began and turned to walk back down the hall. By the time Harry got himself under control and followed his teacher back to the main area, Snape was sitting in a chair with a small glass tumbler of whisky in his hand. 

“Sit,” Snape barked out and Harry sat gingerly on the edge of the seat furthest away from the professor. 

“It has been decided that you are a danger to yourself, Mr Potter. As such, you have lost certain privileges and rights, privacy being a big one of those losses. The rooms here are spelled against intentional harm and as such are the best way to keep you safe,” at the word safe, Snape sneered and took a small sip from his glass. 

“You will also be required to wear a charm around your wrist or ankle, your choice as to which, that will monitor you at all times. It will let us know if you come to harm or if you go outside the areas in which you are allowed to go.” 

Harry opened his mouth to argue and Snape help his hand up. “No, you will not speak. You will allow me to explain, and then you may ask your questions.” Harry snapped his mouth shut and moved further back into his seat to sit sullenly. 

“You will be allowed in these rooms; your classrooms, the great hall, the Slytherin common room and the library. You are not allowed in the Gryffindor tower, as it has been shown that Minerva does not monitor her lions as well as she should.” 

“That’s not fair!” Harry blurted out angrily, “Gryffindor is my home! You can’t keep me from there.” 

“You will find, Mr Potter, that I can.” Snape pointed out and took another small sip from his drink before standing and pulling a small braid of leather with runes etched within its surface. 

“Your wrist or your ankle?” he asked as he approached Harry, who shook his head. 

“Neither, I won’t wear it,” he answered grumpily, attempting to move away from the man as he approached. 

“Then you will go to St Mungo’s where you will be treated by a mind-healer, and will most likely be outed to the public within hours of your admittance.” Snape told him and Harry fought back tears of frustration. 

“This is not fair,” he moaned and Snape laughed drily before holding the cuff up again. 

“Wrist or ankle?” he inquired shortly. 

“Wrist,” Harry finally decided, and then continued to pout while Snape tied the thing around his wrist then pulled out his wand to chant quietly over it for several moments. It flared white, then settled back down and Snape moved back over to his seat. 

“You will be unable to remove that, Mr Potter, and I will be alerted if you even attempt to do so.” Harry just growled and muttered obscenities under his breath, causing Snape to raise an eyebrow. 

“You are also required to choose myself, or Madame Pomfrey as a counsellor of sorts, who will work through the contents of your nightmares in place of a trained Mind Healer.” Snape finished and Harry frowned deeper while he thought on that. 

“You,” he finally decided. Madame Pomfrey would only pity him, and he wouldn’t be able to handle that. Snape would not, could not, show pity for someone he hated. 

“Very well, we are done for now, I suggest you shower and then perhaps work on some schoolwork.” Snape told him and rose to exit the room gracefully, the now empty glass left to sit on the coffee table between Harry’s seat and his. 

A house elf popped into view, startling Harry, who almost fell off his seat in surprise. The elf apologised profusely, ears hanging low over its head and snatched up the glass before once again popping out of view. 

Harry finally stood and headed back down the hall to where his bedroom was, and after finding his trunk, he removed some clean clothing and a towel and walked back toward the bathroom. 

His glamours had not been replaced, so while he washed, each cut and scar were clearly visible. Wondering just how this monitoring bracelet worked, and how far, if at all, he could go with hurting himself, Harry ran his nails over his skin until small welts appeared but no blood. 

When Snape did not appear in the bathroom, he found a recent cut and pressed on it until pain blossomed outwards and he hissed. A sudden bang on the bathroom door had him jumping and almost slipping on the wet stones of the shower floor. 

“I will assume you are testing the limits of the charms, Potter, so I will refrain from entering this once. This will be the only time however; the next test will have me barging in there to the embarrassment of the both of us. Cease your current activities at once.” 

“Fuck,” Harry swore quietly under his breath and stopped pushing on the cuts immediately. His shower ruined now, he finished cleaning as quickly as he could then stepped out and dressed. He went straight to his room afterward, though his stomach rumbled with hunger, and pulled out a text book. 

He sat down on his new bed and attempted to read as his thoughts flew around his head and his heart rate sped.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not sure how happy I am with this chapter, but there you go.  
> I'd just like to thank the people who have taken the time to post reviews, and encourage others to post their own :)  
> Thanks also to all the people who give me kudos, it makes my heart happy that people are enjoying what I write.  
> Justsmile :)

Chapter Fourteen He had only been reading for a short time when Snape knocked once on the door to his bedroom, then opened it and stopped just in the doorway. 

“It is past the usual time for dinner, Mr Potter, you will come and eat something.” he told Harry who reluctantly put his book down on the bed and stood to follow Snape out to sit on the chair he had sat on earlier. As soon as he had seated himself an elf popped into the room with two plates balanced on its hands, causing Harry to startle once more. He resisted the urge to frown at the elf, knowing how sensitive they were and instead scowled at Snape. 

“I’m not hungry,” he told him. 

“I don’t much care for your comfort in the matter, Mr Potter. You will eat, regardless of hunger. Would you like a stomach soother?” 

Harry just shook his head, and picked up the plate closest to him to balance on his lap. Snape conjured a lap tray to place his plate and Harry frowned but didn’t ask him to conjure one for himself. He awkwardly ate a small amount of the potatoes and meat on his plate and when his stomach started swirling in protest he placed the plate back down onto the small table. 

“You will have a stomach soother at your next meal, Potter, and at everyone after that until I am satisfied with the amount you are eating” Snape told him after frowning at the amount of food Harry had left on his plate. 

“Whatever,” Harry replied resentfully, then went to stand. 

“You will remain there, Mr Potter. I believe you owe me a detention.” Snape told him as he placed his own empty plate on the table, which were both removed moments later by the house-elf. 

“I think we will use the time we have in this detention to get started on your therapy, as such that it is.” Snape told him, then leant back into the cushions behind him in a pose of comfort Harry had never thought to see him in. 

“What?” he protested. “No. Just give me lines or an essay or something. I’ll even clean the bathroom.” 

“No, Mr Potter, we have to start somewhere, now may as well be the time to begin.” 

Harry sat back in his own chair and crossed his arms across his chest, regarding his teacher in complete silence, lips pursed shut and frown upon his face. Neither spoke for several minutes, the only sound a clock ticking from the wall nearby, and finally Snape sighed quietly. 

“We will remain here until you do speak, Mr Potter, and I assure you, you will get bored or find you need the bathroom or to go to sleep long before I even begin to get uncomfortable.” Snape told him lowly and Harry growled and threw his hands up in frustration. 

“I don’t know what you want from me!” he declared. 

“Why don’t you begin with the content of your dreams that keep you awake or drive you to illness?” Snape asked and Harry clenched his fists and bit the inside of his cheek. Snape’s eyes narrowed at the sound of a small alarm and Harry jumped slightly when he realised that the alarm was because of him. 

“Seriously?!” he asked, voice cracking, “I just bit my cheek!” 

“All forms of self-injury, Mr Potter. The quieter the charm, the lesser the injury. They are also recorded on parchment, so if I am somewhere I cannot hear the alarm, I am still able to look at the parchment. I will not cause trouble, however, for the occasional cheek bite, or scratch, as I understand the addiction element to your situation. I will expect you however, to seek out alternative stress relievers that do not harm your person in any way" 

Harry frowned all the way through Snape’s explanations, but did stop biting his cheek. 

“Now, would you like to begin?” 

“Fine!” Harry exclaimed. “What do you want to know?” 

“Let’s begin the content of your latest nightmare, shall we?” Snape asked and Harry huffed and resisted the urge to bite his cheek again. 

“I was back in the department of mysteries. Only, instead of Sirius falling through the veil, the death eaters over powered everyone and were forcing all my friends to walk through it. Only when they stepped into it, they didn’t just disappear, but they were pulled apart. There were little bits of them flying all over the place and Voldemort was standing in the centre of all their parts like it was confetti or something and laughing.” 

Harry described his latest dream then had to fight the nausea that threatened. Snape offered him a vial and he swallowed if without bothering to ask what it was. He was grateful when his stomach settled back down and the nausea became more bearable. 

“I can understand how that could make you physically ill.” Snape commented and Harry leant his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. 

“Are they all similar to that?” He pushed and Harry responded but didn’t bother raising his head or opening his eyes. 

“No,” he told Snape, “sometimes they follow pretty much the events as they were. The time I killed Quirrel with my bare hands, or killed the basilisk and almost died, or saw Cedric get killed in the cemetery for being a ‘spare.’ And then sometimes they’re a mix of all those events and have mutated way beyond the actual happenings. That’s when they become even more gruesome.” Harry confesses and Snape frowned. 

“All of those events actually occurred?” he asked and Harry snorted and raised his head to look at Snape. 

“I think if you truly wanted to help me you might need to speak to Dumbledore to get all the facts. If I’m to relive them as I tell you about my dreams, I will not relive them now.” 

Snape nodded his head and stood. “Very well, Mr Potter, I thank you for the start you have made in finding a way to heal. You may complete your detention in your room finishing any work that needs to be done.” 

Harry just nodded and pulled himself up slowly, then he dragged himself to his rooms where he flopped heavily down on his bed and hid his head in his pillow. When he was sure Snape wasn’t going to follow him to his room, he allowed his tears to fall. 

He sobbed quietly into his pillow until he fell asleep. 

His nightmare’s that night were of the more gruesome variety and he woke Snape in the early hours of the morning as he barrelled his way into the bathroom to vomit. Snape stood silently by until he had finished being sick and then calmly offered him yet another stomach soother. Harry gulped it down and stumbled back to his bed to hide his head under the pillow and hope for just a little more sleep. 

 

He woke in the morning with a headache and sore eyes and was about to run his finger nails down the length of his arm to drag his mind out of sleep when he remembered the monitoring bracelet. 

“Fuck,” he exclaimed and rolled over to glare at the roof. Snape found him like this a little while later, and when directed, he reluctantly stood and followed him back the lounge area where two plates of breakfast waited. 

He was handed a stomach soother and took it without protest before he sat down to eat the eggs and toast piled on his plate. 

“It is Sunday, so you have no classes, but I do not want you moping around these rooms all day. You are free to go to the library, or the Slytherin common room, and I expect to see you in the great hall for lunch and dinner. You will return here after dinner to continue speaking with me.” Snape explained as Harry ate. 

“Fine,” he mumbled around a mouthful of eggs and enjoyed the flicker of distaste on his professors face. 

Breakfast was finished in silence and after pulling on some clean clothes in his room and brushing his teeth, he was essentially pushed from the rooms like an unwanted pet and left to stand in the stone hallway alone. 

He stood for several minutes, until he heard the sound of the wall opening up just ahead and saw several Slytherins leave their common room. He decided the library was probably the best place for privacy that was allowed to him, and so followed behind the Slytherins quietly until he could branch off and head to the library. 

He found a table toward the back of the room and after pulling a random book off the shelf to look like he was busy, he settled down for a long and boring day. After a while he got bored enough to actually open the book he pulled from the shelf and attempt to read it. Unfortunately, it seemed to be one on arithmancy and he had no idea what it was talking about. 

He was still on page one, having read the introduction numerous times and feeling like it was written in a language other than English when he heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. 

“Is it true?” Dean and Seamus stood there with identical frowns on their face and Harry returned the expression. 

“What are on about?” he asked, bewildered. 

“What they’re saying,” Seamus responded. “Were you attacked again?” 

“What are Ron and Hermione saying?” Harry asked back and they both shrugged. 

“They say they’re mad at you for some reason, but that it’s none of our business.” 

“Well, there you go,” Harry said, “they might be really bad, unsupportive, sticky-nosed friends, but at least they’re not backstabbers.” 

Seamus’s nose wrinkled in confusion and Dean shook his head. 

“But it is our business,” he pushed, “if there’s still death eaters in the school attacking you, what’s to stop them from attacking the rest of us if you’re not around?” 

“Fuck you,” Harry said and stood up, leaving the book he was attempting to read behind and walking away to the protests of both boys and the loud shushing of Madame Pince. 

He’d only been in the library for a little while, but clearly that option was out if he wanted to be left alone. Unfortunately, with his restrictions it left only a couple of places he could go. The Slytherin common room was out, even if the people there had been made aware that he was a ‘temporary Slytherin’ still. Blaise and the others could be there and he wasn’t ready for that confrontation just yet. 

With only one place left to go, Harry made his way to the great hall. It was still a way off lunch yet, and so the hall was fairly empty. There were some people clumped in groups around the hall, however, most playing loud games of cards or gobstones with people from different houses and Harry was kicking himself for not having thought to grab a book of his own to read. 

He managed to find an abandoned newspaper at the Ravenclaw table and after snatching it up quickly when no one was looking, he moved to a corner of the room and slunk down on the floor. 

He used the paper to help shield his face to the room and then started to read. 

He was on the last page, although he honestly could not recall a single thing of what he had read, when he heard the lunch hour toll and looked up to find more people in the room and others making their way in. 

Unsure which house he was supposed to eat at and not liking the thought of either the Gryffindor or the Slytherin table, he made his way over to the very end of the Hufflepuff table and sat there. As the table filled he was given some curious looks, although no one actually approached him so he figured they could look all they liked. 

When lunch appeared, a vial of stomach soother appeared next to his plate and he looked up to see Snape regarding him from the teachers table with an eyebrow raised. Hary smirked and shrugged his shoulders, but drank the potion then helped himself to some food. 

He took his time over lunch, knowing he had nowhere to go afterwards. Everyone seemed to understand he wasn't in the mood to talk though, as they left him alone, only whispering amongst themselves briefly before going back to their normal conversations. 

Eventually, even with the stomach soother, he could eat no more and so he stood and left the hall. Now he had nowhere to go that didn’t run the risk of running into someone he didn’t want to, so he made his way back down to the dungeons. When he reached the part in the passage that would open Snape’s quarters, he kept going further until he came to a dead end. 

Here he slid down the wall until his back was against the cold stone and he could pull his knees into his chest. He laid his head onto his knees and closed his eyes. 

He was jolted awake from a nightmare of his uncle Vernon a while later and casting a tempus was dismayed to see that dinner had already begun. Harry pushed himself to his feet with a groan as his back and thighs protested their hours of sitting on a cold stone floor, and hurried back down the passage and towards the great hall. 

Quite a few heads turned as he entered, but it wasn’t such an uncommon occurrence for someone to arrive late that most just kept chatting with their friends. He took the same spot at the Hufflepuff table that he had sat at earlier and resisted the urge to look over at either of the Gryffindor or Slytherin tables. 

The stomach soother appeared in front of him and he drank if before piling whatever was in reach onto his plate. He ate fast this time, and as soon as he saw Snape leave the head table he stood and left the hall too. He was waiting impatiently outside the door when Snape finally appeared and muttered the password and he scowled as he entered after his professor. 

“Why don’t I know the password?” he asked grumpily and Snape turned to raise his eyebrow at the petulant tone coming from the teenager. 

“When you can be trusted, I will give it to you. Until then, you will either be in here, or you will be expected to be elsewhere, and do not need the password.” 

Harry didn’t bother responding and instead stomped down the hall to his room and through himself onto the bed. Snape appeared in the doorway several minutes later and looked him over. 

“You will come back to the living area, Potter, and we will continue on with last nights’ discussion.” 

Harry scowled and swore under his breath, getting another raised eye brow, and grudgingly lifted himself off the bed and followed Snape once more. He took his usual seat and then sat silently as Snape ordered a tea service from the house elf. 

To Harry’s surprise, Snape poured him a cup of tea and offered it before pouring one for himself and settling back into his chair to regard Harry with a serious expression. 

“Albus has informed me of some of your more...thrilling...adventures, and I must say I am astonished you had not cracked earlier.” 

“I’m not cracked now,” Harry responded and then scowled when Snape once again raised an eyebrow. 

“I beg to differ, Potter. You are suffering from a self-harm addiction, another close addiction to dreamless sleep, nightly nightmares or no sleep and are pushing your friends away.” 

Harry put his cup down and scooted back into his chair to pull his knees up and to his chest as a shield. 

“Fine!” he declared, “you’re right, I am broken, but yeah, I think I’m entitled to a little breakdown now that Voldemort is gone. I did my duty, so why can’t you people just leave me alone? I’m not hurting anyone but myself. Just leave me alone.” He whispered the last bit and hid his face in his knees. 

“Precisely, Mr Potter,” Snape answered and Harry looked up at him in confusion. 

“You did defeat the Dark Lord, and you have been through much, continued to go through it this summer, but you are hurting yourself. You deserve to have a rest and enjoy the next few years of your schooling here, with your friends both old and new.” 

“I don’t have any friends,” Harry mumbled and Snape snorted. 

“Don’t be so dramatic, Potter, the rest of the Golden Trio are no doubt eagerly awaiting your return to the tower, and I know several of my Slytherins consider you a friend.” 

“I'm not talking to Ron and Hermione at the moment,” Harry explained, “And Blaise is a backstabber.” 

“Why do you say that, Mr Potter.” 

“He told you about my feet and stuff, and if he hadn’t mentioned it you wouldn’t have even thought about looking at my back,” he explained petulantly and Snape scowled before putting his own empty cup down and leaning forward. 

“You do understand, Mr Potter, that Mr Zabini had your best interests at heart. He saw you hurting in a way he didn’t understand and couldn’t help with, and so did the best thing he could at the time. You were there though, he did not reveal how the scars came to be on your back.” 

Harry closed his eyes against the logic and tried not to think but it was too hard and he blurted out. 

“If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be here. I’d be back in the tower where people left me alone.” 

“You would still be here, Mr Potter. Albus and I have been discussing it on and off for a week now.” Snape told him and Harry frowned. 

“What do you mean? My exchange time was over Saturday, you couldn’t have kept me here.” 

“Did you even read the contract you signed?” Snape asked and Harry nodded his head, then blushed and shook it when Snape kept staring at him. 

“Most of it, okay, but it was long and Dumbledore explained it was basically just a promise that I would behave myself.” Harry told him and wrapping his arms around his knees, pulled them closer. 

“That is correct, but it also stated that each head of house had the right to keep the exchangee if it was thought they would do better in their new house.” 

“What?” Harry exploded, “then why the fuck didn’t Dumbledore tell me that? I wouldn’t have signed the bloody thing!” 

“Language,” Snape said succinctly then poured himself a fresh cup of tea before continuing, 

“The war changed things, Mr Potter, and a lot of people were probably scared to reveal their true selves, or enter a house that seemed unexpected. We wished to give those students still attending a second chance at a better school experience.” 

“It’s still bullshit,” Harry mumbled “it was probably just everyone’s way to try and control me yet again. I’m sick of nor being in control!” Harry yelled and threw himself from the couch to pace back and forth. 

“If that were the case, Ms Granger would not have needed to face a panel of faculty members to argue her case in continuing to stay in Gryffindor.” Snape told him cooly and Harry stopped his pacing to stare at the professor. 

“Hermione?” he asked and Snape nodded. 

“Yes, while she is providing exemplary work in all her classes, it is believed she could improve further if she was to make friends and surround herself with people who are just as enthused about learning as she is.” 

“But she stayed in Gryffindor?” Harry asked worriedly. 

“Yes,” Snape responded, “her intellect aside, her bravery and loyalty have already been shown many times over and she is also a prime candidate for a Lion,” Snape sneered at the name but continued. “She was ultimately given the choice, and chose to remain where she is.” 

Harry didn’t realise he was holding his breath until he was able to relax and exhale. 

“So why don’t I get the choice?” he asked when he could finally think again. 

“You will, Mr Potter, when your judgement can be trusted that you will genuinely choose the house you believe you could excel in, and not simply the house you believe you can disappear into.” 

Harry moved back around to sit on his seat. “I just want control back,” he said pitifully and Snape poured him another cup of tea and offered it over. 

“Which is why we will continue to have these nightly sessions.” he stated then sat back in his chair to sip his own drink. They sat in silence until their cups were empty and Harry stood. 

“Goodnight, Mr Potter,” Snape told him and Harry paused for a moment before responding. 

“Goodnight, Professor.” 

Harry had a shower, washing as quickly and thoroughly as he could without actually looking down at himself. He had been forbidden from using a glamour anywhere on his body after the drain to his core had been discovered and he knew if he looked he’d want to make more, so avoided the temptation. 

When he woke again that night, jolted from a dream about the chamber of secrets where Riddle turned into a Vampire and killed Ginny before attacking Harry, Snape was already in his room with a calming draught. 

Harry drank the potion and hesitantly described the dream to Snape at his request. His gums and lips were bleeding at the end of it, and he was pretty certain he had crescent shaped cuts in his palms, but Snape was surprisingly patient and when Harry laid back down to try and sleep again, he felt a little lighter. 

 

 

Snape woke him in the morning in time for breakfast in the great hall before class and it was with great reluctance that he left the relative safety and peace of Snape’s personal quarters. 

He ate quickly, and only a little, then headed straight to his first class of the day. He was still following the Slytherin schedule, but no one seemed surprised when he appeared in their classes, so he just kept to himself. 

Blaise kept throwing looks at him all morning, but left him alone, which made Harry feel grateful and extremely lonely at the same time. He sat next to Goyle in most of his classes, as he had no issue with the boy and his dark humour was entertaining. 

At lunch, he sat back at the Hufflepuff table which had grown so used to his presence no one even looked sideways when he sat down and helped himself to a sandwich. However, several heads turned when Blaise took the empty spot nest to him and also helped himself to a sandwich. Harry tried ignoring him, but gave up half way through the first half of his food. 

“What?” he asked gruffly and then felt bad when he saw Blaise wince. 

“For what it’s worth, Harry, I am incredibly sorry that you feel like I broke your confidence. I won’t give you excuses or platitudes or anything like that. I would just like to offer my sincere apologies.” 

Harry frowned down at the food in his hand for so long that Blaise finally placed his uneaten food on the plate in front of him and went to stand. 

“Wait,” Harry said, and threw his hand out to grab the Slytherin by the arm. 

“I guess you didn’t really do anything wrong.” he confessed, “Snape has explained it to me from your prospective and I guess if a year ago it had been Ron in my shoes and me in yours, I‘d have done something similar to what you did.” Harry shrugged his shoulders, “Doesn't make the feeling of betrayal any less, but I can't really be angry.” 

“I really am sorry,” Blaise repeated himself and sat back down. “I understand if you don't want to be friends any more, but the others are missing you and I don’t want you to feel like you can't come to the Slytherin common room.” 

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, so Blaise continued. “Snape told us all that you were staying a Slytherin for now.” 

“What did he tell you?” Harry asked sharply, before looking up to face Blaise with panic on his face. 

“Nothing bad,” he was quick to re-assure, “just about how the contracts we signed talked about the professors being able to keep us in the new house and how there was some issue with which one you should belong to. He said you’re technically a Slytherin and although you’re staying somewhere else for now, you will still be in our classes and that you are welcome in the common room.” 

Harry breathed easier at the explanations Snape had provided, and although Blaise had to know there was more to it than that, the Slytherin still wanted to be his friend. 

“Just thinks about joining us in the common room, maybe have a game of chess with me or one of the others.” Blaise asked, then stood once more. “You know where to find us,” he told Harry and after touching a hesitant hand to Harry’s shoulder he walked away. 

Harry ate the rest of his lunch in a contemplative silence.


	15. chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly not sure how happy I am with this story. Sorry to those people following who had to wait a little while for this update. :)

Chapter fifteen 

 

His afternoon classes passed quickly, and none of his teachers or classmates commented on what he was still doing in the Slytherin classes, so word must have spread fast. When he was finally free of the days lessons, he headed straight down to the dungeons. 

He stood outside the entrance to Snape’s rooms for several long minutes, listening as groups of students headed down the passage and ducked into their common room. Harry finally sneered at the stones and then turned and made his way back toward the Slytherin common room. It wasn’t until he was standing outside this section of blank stone wall that he remembered he didn’t have the password for here either. 

Frustrated and about to go and sit at the end of the passage on his own again, Blaise turned a corner and spotted him. Harry fought the urge to turn and walk away and instead planted his feet and forced a small smile onto his face. 

“Let me in?” he asked as soon as Blaise approached him. 

“Of course, Harry,” Blaise responded and turned to speak the password, ensuring he was loud enough for Harry to hear it. 

“Did you want to have a game of chess?” Blaise asked quietly as they stepped into the room. No one paid attention to their entrance and Harry took a look around the room for any empty tables or seats. 

“Sure,” he shrugged and moved swiftly across the room for two available seats. Blaise went and got his chess set from his room and then made his own way over to where Harry was. 

They sat in silence while he set up the board, giving Harry white, and then remained silent for several moves. Harry was just trying to figure out whether the silence was awkward or welcome, when Blaise sat back in his chair and just looked at him for several moments. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Harry asked, knowing he didn’t and enjoying the rosy blush that appeared on the Slytherin's cheeks. 

“I AM sorry, Harry, but I couldn’t NOT say something.” Blaise admitted quietly and Harry put down the rook he’d been playing with and sat back in his own chair. 

“I know,” he responded just as quietly, “I guess I’m just frustrated. I can understand where everyone is coming from, thinking I need help. I think maybe I do need help. But I also just want to be left alone, and so it’s like I’m being torn in two different directions and I once again I had no choice in the matter.” 

Blaise grimaced and stayed silent again for their next few moves, chewing quietly on his bottom lip. Harry felt himself grow jealous at the action that he couldn’t do without causing some stupid alarm to go off, and then felt stupid for being jealous for something like that. 

“You know I like you, Harry?” Blaise finally asked, and Harry nodded absently as he tried to set up a move on the board that would allow him to win the game. 

“I mean, like you, like you,” Blaise continued and Harry dropped his chess piece, causing several to be knocked from their places. 

When Harry looked up from his frantic grabbing of chess pieces, Blaise’s cheeks were burning red, but his eyes stayed steady on Harry’s face, causing a blush to rise to his cheeks also. 

“Um,” he managed weakly, then swallowed hard as a burst of arousal spread throughout his body. He fought it down in seconds and forced his cheeks to stop flushing, while Blaise remained as he was, stiff with apprehension but clearly not planning on taking it back. 

“I think you like me too,” he almost whispered and when Harry didn’t deny it, he finally smiled. 

“Look, I’m sorry if that was a little awkward or whatever, I had to get it out there. I needed you know that where I don’t expect anything from you, I AM here if you need someone to talk to, or have a hug, or just not be sitting alone somewhere.” Blaise told him and Harry felt water prickle at the corners of his eyes before he swallowed deeply once more. 

“Thank you,” he managed and their chess game continued in silence once more. With his attention shattered though, Harry lost the game, then the three others they played after that one. As conversation picked up between them, they avoided any serious topics and stuck to discussing school work and Quidditch teams. 

When the dinner hour was signalled and people began to make their way from the dungeons for the great hall, Harry stood and smiled at Blaise. 

“Thank you,” he said again simply and pulled the Slytherin into a quick hug before practically running from the common room. He took a seat at the Slytherin table next to Crabbe and across from Goyle, who both greeted him but refrained from asking questions. When Blaise and the sixth year Slytherin girls joined their group several moments later he gave them all a smile and then helped himself to some dinner. 

A stomach soother appeared and he drank it quickly, but was unable to do much more than pick at his food. He was happy, but his stomach was still in knots and after a couple of days of quiet solitude at the Hufflepuff table, the small conversations going on around him were almost too much. 

Blaise had taken the empty seat to him and about half way through the meal, he bumped Harry’s thigh with his own. 

“You ok?” he asked quietly and Harry nodded his head and smiled. 

“Yeah,” he told the Slytherin, “just tired, I guess. You guys are nowhere near as loud as Gryffindor, but I’ve been eating alone enough that it’s exhausting sitting here.” he confessed. 

Blaise just nodded and bumped Harry’s leg again, trying to express his sympathy. When Harry had managed to eat half of what he’d dished himself, he stood up. 

“Later,” he told the Slytherins and strode quickly from the hall. A quick look over at the Gryffindor table showed several people looking at him and snickering with their friends. Ron and Hermione completely ignored their table mates and Harry, and Harry felt his heart constrict before he hardened himself. 

When they appeared truly sorry for their actions he’d forgive them. Until then, he maybe had Blaise and the other Slytherins, but he didn’t NEED anyone. 

 

After ten minutes of standing outside Snape’s quarters, the man finally appeared to speak the password and let him through. After Blaise’s revelations and the exhausting meal, Harry wanted nothing more than to head to his bed and go to sleep, but paused by the couch instead. 

“You may skip our nightly discussions tonight, Potter,” Snape told him as he took in the appearance of the teen. “I would suggest an early night instead.” 

Harry just nodded without bothering to speak, and after a quick shower he was in bed and asleep. 

 

 

The room was damp and a little cold, the only light an oddly green-flamed torch shoved roughly into a sconce in the wall. 

There were several people in the room, all clothed in black robes and masks, and standing in a circle clearly involved in watching whatever they surrounded. Their jeers and crows of victory, and derision and hilarity echoed off the walls loudly. 

He moved closer to get a view for himself, but was only able to make out another robed figure standing over something in the very centre of the group. The figure did something that seemed to really entertain the others watching, and the shouts of laughter echoing off the walls made his ears hurt. 

A small bundle of cloth was thrown over the head of the people nearest him and landed with a wet noise on the cold stone floor. Curious, he ignored the group of people for now to move closer to the thrown object. Bending down, he could see it was clothing of some kind, so with a quick glance over at the group of people to ensure he was still unseen, he lifted a part of the wet material up. 

It took several long seconds for him to process exactly what he was holding, and when he did he gasped and froze in horror. It was a muggle dress, short and flowy and perfect for a summer evening, but it was mangled almost beyond recognition. 

Red stains covered the majority of the material, creating a macabre juxtaposition from the yellow daisies that made up the fabric and with a great gasp, he threw it from him and frantically wiped his hands on his legs, trying to remove the blood that clung to them. 

A spot in the circle opened wider and it was with trepidation and a rapidly beating heart that he moved forward to get his first look at what the circle contained. 

Lying in the centre, naked and unconscious lay a young woman, no older than twenty. Her body contained numerous cuts and welts and bruises and even as he stood there horrified at the sight, one of the robed figures moved forwards to roughly fondle a breast, to the mocking jeers of the people surrounding him.. 

Harry couldn’t see anyone's faces, but their eyes all glowed maliciously in the glowing green light and as the figure knelt down to carve deeply in the flesh of the woman’s stomach he roared loudly and leaped at the man. 

 

His vision grew dark for what felt like eternity and when he opened his eyes once more, he was on the floor in the centre of the circle. The robed figures all laughed mockingly and a new one stepped forward with a knife in his hands. Before he could blink, his clothes had disappeared and he was lying spread eagled and naked. 

Any attempts to curl in on himself and hide were met with a resistance he could not understand and he was forced to lay there as the group around him laughed and taunted. The figure above him with the knife knelt at his side and traced the scars on his body with the blade, causing him to flinch and eliciting more laughter. 

The knife was laid aside and for long moments the figure simply stared at him through the slits in his mask. Suddenly a hand was around his throat and squeezing hard and breathing became more and more difficult. His blood was pounding in his ears, a loud rushing that brought darkness to the edge of his vision, then just as suddenly the hand was gone. 

It traced its way down his collarbone, then his chest, then his stomach and then grabbed him between the legs. The figure removed his mask to reveal the red eyes and nose less face of Voldemort and he screamed. 

 

 

Harry awoke with a loud shout and tumbled from his bed, crashing into his desk and knocking his chair over with a bang that had Snape barrelling into his room in his nightwear with his wand wielded in front of him. 

He couldn’t breathe in his panic and he was clawing at his arms and legs in his distress, trying to bring himself back from the nightmare that was even now still bombarding him with images. Snape stood in the doorway, clearly hesitant to approach him just yet and Harry forced himself to push the images from his mind while he drew in deep lung fulls of air. 

He’d just gotten himself calm again when he realised he was hard. 

Bile rose in his throat and he was barely able to lean forwards before he was violently sick on the floor in front of him. Snape did step forward now, to banish the sick and summon a vial to his hand that he offered to Harry. 

His erection was gone now, but not the horror of it, and so he ignored the vial to fall onto the floor and curl himself into a ball, the action reminding him of his dream. 

“Mr Potter,” Snape began and Harry flinched and curled his head into his chest to cover it with his arms, whimpering quietly and still struggling to breathe. 

“Mr Potter,” he tried again, “you need to unfold yourself now and take this damned potion or I will be forced to summon Poppy and you will be removed to the hospital wing.” 

Something about the hospital wing managed to get through his panic and after several long, deep breaths he was still unable to uncurl himself, but he did hold his arm out to grab the vial from the offered hand. 

He drank its contents down, wishing desperately that it could be dreamless sleep and not a calming draught, and waited for its contents to kick in. 

The dream was fading a little now, though the feelings it had created, the horror and panic muffled now that he had the potion, but still there. It was almost fifteen minutes later that he was able to pull himself into a sitting position and shuffle his body until his back was leaning against his bed. 

“Care to discuss it, Potter?” Snape asked, having stayed patiently standing while he gathered himself. 

“No,” he managed through his sore throat and Snape narrowed his eyes before summoning another potion and offering it silently. Harry sniffed its contents then downed the pain potion gratefully, wincing as it passed his raw throat, then relaxing minutely as it began to work. 

“Very well, for now,” Snape responded. “It is almost time to awaken for the day, so I suggest you have a shower and then meet me in the living area so that I may treat your wounds.” At that Harry looked down, startled to see red welts forming on the skin of his arms, blood bubbling up through some of the deeper scratches. 

He winced at the sight, then sighed and nodded his head before standing and gathering the necessary items to get ready for the day. The water in the shower stings his arms and brings a little more clarity to the fog that surrounded him and he was very tempted to scratch the lines deeper. 

The sight of the cuff on his wrist stops him and instead he closed his eyes and allowed the slight sting to continue grounding him in the moment. 

When he finally made his way to the living area, Snape was already dressed for the day and was waiting in his chair with a potion vial and some cloths. Harry sat opposite him and laid his arms out wrists up, grimacing at the sight of all his scars surrounded by angry red welts. 

Snape said nothing, just used one of the cloths to gently rub the potion into his arms and another to dry them before banishing all of it back to his lab. Harry rolled the sleeves of his robes down and headed back to his room to grab his school bag. 

Snape was still sitting in his chair when Harry returned from his room with his school bag thrown over his shoulder. 

“We will talk tonight, Mr Potter,” he finally spoke up as Harry opened the door. He shrugged his shoulders and stepped into the passage, making his way to the great hall. He wasn’t hungry, but he knows if he is not sitting there when Snape comes to have breakfast there will be hell to pay, so he sat at the Hufflepuff table again and put at slice of toast on the plate in front of him. 

His stomach soother appeared next to his plate the moment he put food on it, and he was tempted to leave it. Knowing that Snape will be annoyed if he didn‘t take it, but feeling like he deserved the churning in his guts, he grabbed it up and poured its contents into the mug of pumpkin juice in front of him. 

Blaise came in and throws a concerned look his way when he noticed that Harry was back at the Hufflepuff table, so Harry forced a small smile onto his face and just shook his head minutely. Ten minutes later he left the hall with his toast and juice untouched. 

 

 

Several days later and he had managed to avoid discussion of his violent dream by talking about other dreams he’d had, or about some of the abuse he suffered at the hands of his uncle, during his nightly sessions with Snape. 

He had started losing weight again, what little he’d managed to gain when he was eating regularly, and it was starting to show in his face. In the gaunt cheeks and hollow eyes and the way he held himself when he had to stand for long periods of time. 

He continued to pretend to drink the stomach soother, and played around with the food on his plate, knowing Snape can’t actually see if he is eating or not from where he is seated at the head table. The churning in his stomach is constant now, and he’s grown so used to it that he can almost ignore it on occasion. 

He sat with Blaise and the other Slytherins once or twice, but mostly sat in his usual spot at the Hufflepuff table. There was an awkward game of cards in the common room with all the sixth years playing, but Harry had felt so dissociated from the game he’d missed his turn several times and received looks of worry from all of them. 

 

Finally, several days after the nightmare, he woke from a surprisingly dreamless sleep feeling well rested and not nauseous for the first time in over a week. The scrapes he’d done in his sleep were fully healed and almost invisible against the backdrop of other scars as he washed in the shower and when he stepped from Snape’s rooms to then run into Blaise, he smiled a genuine smile at the Slytherin. 

Blaise returned the smile with a wide one of his own and they walked to the great hall for breakfast. Harry took a seat at the Slytherin table, much to Blaise’s delight and eyed the food before him. The nausea threatened to return, but he pushed it back and gulped the stomach soother that appeared at his plate rather than surreptitiously emptying it into his glass like he had been doing. 

A piece of toast and some apple slices later, and he was full and trying to ignore the worrying thought that he really shouldn’t be feeling so full after such a small meal. Blaise had smiled and talked with him throughout the whole meal and Harry joined in with the small banter. 

Class was less lonely and went quicker than it had all week, although there was some panic when he realised the amount of work he had been avoiding had not gone away but instead piled up to create a mountain of due projects and homework, none of which he had done any work on. 

Blaise seemed to see the panic in his eyes at their last class of the day and offered to lend his own notes and work so Harry could catch up easily. Feeling overwhelmed, Harry nodded and followed the Slytherin to the common room to take an empty table. 

When dinner came around, Harry was still working on an overdue essay in transfiguration and he told Blaise to go on without him. Blaise had looked him over with concern, then simply nodded and left the common room with all the other students heading to dinner. 

Snape found him there twenty minutes later, mumbling quietly to himself and chewing the end of his quill while he searched through the pile of notes in front of him. 

“Why, pray tell, are you not at dinner, Mr Potter?” he drawled as he entered the room, causing Harry to jump and knock a few of his papers onto the floor. Frowning, he picked them up before he turned to scowl at his professor. 

“I was trying to catch up on work,” he said grumpily and crossed his arms across his chest in defence. 

“You have been instructed to not miss meals, Mr Potter. Did you forget?” Snape responded and Harry scowled deeper. 

“No,” he said sullenly, “I just had so much to do, and I wasn’t hungry. It‘s just one meal.” 

“Is it?” Snape asked, eyebrow raised, and Harry fought back the flinch when he saw the knowing gaze of his professor. 

“We will be discussing this tonight, Potter. I will expect you in my quarters at seven.” With that, Snape turned and strode from the room leaving Harry alone to stare at the work in front of him as his heart rate soared with trepidation. 

Blaise found him still there a little while later, finally calmed down from his run in with the professor and feeling happy once more as he put the finishing touches on his last bit of overdue work. 

“All finished?” Blaise asked as he noticed Harry’s smile. 

“Finally,” Harry declared dramatically, forcing a laugh from the Slytherin, who took a seat next to Harry and started to help gather all the papers, quills and text books. A minute later and the table was cleared with everything shoved back into his bag. 

“Want a game of chess?” Blaise asked and Harry smiled and nodded his head. The game was going well, Harry was close to finally winning, when Blaise gave Harry a shy smile and shifted so his leg rested lightly against Harry’s. Harry returned the shy smile and leant forward to reach a chess piece, shifting slightly so his leg leant heavily against the Slytherin’s. 

Blaise’s smile widened a little and when it was his turn, he moved his piece then lightly brushed a finger against Harry’s hand. Heat shot through Harry at the flirting, and with it, memories of being held down and groped roughly. 

As suddenly as the arousal flared, it disappeared to be replaced with horror and disgust and not wanting to upset the Slytherin, he excused himself quickly and raced from the common room leaving his bag behind. 

Terror clouded his vision and for a moment he was back in his dream before he stumbled into a wall and the harsh grating of stone on his cheek jarred him out of his panic. Disgust at himself, at his mind and at his body, had him shivering with intensity and his body burned with the itch to release these feelings. 

Hastily he made his way up and out of the dungeons, then headed to Myrtles bathroom and privacy. Technically, he was out of bounds, and his cuff would probably tell Snape that, but since he intended to get this itch out of his skin that would be the least of his concerns. 

The toilets were empty, Moaning Myrtle nowhere to be seen and he gratefully moved into a stall and locked the door. He pulled out his wand and pried a loose chunk of stone from the floor, transfiguring it into a dull coloured, but sharp, blade. 

His sleeved were rolled up to his arm pits and there were several long gashes sliced into his forearms when he finally came truly back to awareness and he looked at his arms in horror. None of the cuts were overly deep, though they still bled sluggishly, but there were so many of them. 

Panicked, but feeling so much more grounded with his arms throbbing to the beat of his heart, he dropped the blade into the toilet, then used his wand to transfigure bandages from the toilet roll. His arms were wrapped as well as he could, and when he decided that Snape was clearly not going to come to him, he unlocked the stall door and left the bathroom. 

Feet heavy, but chest and head so much lighter, he made his way down to the dungeons and Snape’s rooms. When he entered, Snape was in his chair with several bundles of bandages and a small pile of potions in front of him. 

“We need to talk, Mr Potter.”


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's late, and about half the length than normal, but it's a chapter. I sincerely apologize for the delay and length, but Real Life is hectic. :)

Chapter Sixteen 

 

 

Harry struggled hard against the instinct to turn and race back out the door, when Snape took the decision from his hands and with a lazy flick of his wand, the door slammed shut. 

“Come,” he stated firmly and Harry moved slowly into the room and lowered himself into the seat, arms limply laying across his knees. 

“Potter,” Snape ground out through clenched teeth and Harry flinched, then reluctantly rolled his sleeves up to expose his mauled forearms. Snape closed his eyes briefly, inhaling and exhaling loudly, then opened his eyes and leant forward to pull one of his arms onto the table between them. He was silent the entire time he treated the wounds, and as soon as he could, Harry drew his arms back and into his chest. 

“What happened?” Snape asked, more patiently than Harry thought him capable, but growled when Harry shrugged his shoulders. 

“I require a verbal response, Mr Potter. You should be grateful I have not enlisted Poppy or Albus, considering the severity of the alarm that blasted itself throughout my quarters not a half an hour ago.” 

He tried to respond, but found the words were stuck in his throat and so he shook his head rapidly. Snape remained quiet, obviously giving him a few minutes to try and work through the thoughts racing around his head. After several long minutes of silence, Snape frowned and sat back into his chair. 

“We will not be moving until you talk with me, Mr Potter. I am aware of your sporadic eating habits this last week, and that you have not been taking the stomach soother as it is offered to you. I believed that given our nightly sessions, you were merely struggling to cope, but now I am not certain that is the case.” 

Harry tried to protest, but all that came out was a strangled croak and Snape paused to eye him briefly before continuing. 

“You are showing signs of an eating disorder, and I am concerned that having taken away your option to carve into yourself, you are harming by refraining from food. Something that is not monitored by that cuff on your wrist.” 

Harry wanted to stand up and deny it, rant and rave, and storm from the room, but his arms stung and he felt apart from his body. Like he was floating in a sea of emotion and pain and apathy, and it took everything in him to not simply close his eyes and go to sleep. 

“You will have one last chance, Mr Potter. If there is another occurrence such as this, you will find yourself on your way to St Mungos.” 

Again, all Harry could do was nod, and Snape narrowed his eyes at him and seemed to fully take in his appearance of red rimmed, black shadowed eyes and altogether apathetic body language. 

“You may go to bed, Mr Potter. But do not think you have escaped these discussions. We will be resuming them tomorrow after a good night’s rest.” Harry would have scoffed at the idea of a good night’s sleep if he’d had the energy. Instead he stood and shuffled his way to his room to fall face first on his bed. 

 

 

Like he’d predicted, it was only about an hour later that he woke shouting and flailing wildly from a dream, only to find Snape standing over his bed. He yelped and shuffled himself until he was pushed into the wall at the head of his bed, dizzy with exhaustion and not entirely awake. 

Snape pursed his lips and quietly stepped back a few paces for which Harry was grateful. It was several long minutes later that his heart started to slow down again and the nausea abated a little. Snape seemed to recognise that he was in a little more control and held a calming draught. 

“I am sincerely sorry that I cannot offer you a dreamless sleep potion, Potter, however, the calming draught should at least be a small help.” 

Harry took the vial and drank the potion, then let his hand drop heavily back down, the empty vial falling to shatter on the floor. Panic at the loud noise and the huff of frustration from the professor almost sent him back against the wall, but the potion worked quickly and he merely remained frozen, staring at the broken glass. 

With a wave of his wand, Snape banished the mess and then conjured a chair to sit beside the bed. 

“I think it would be wise to have some of our conversation now, Mr Potter, since we are both awake and you are significantly more calm and more aware now.” 

Harry blanched and started to shake, drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms tightly around himself though it made him flinch at the bite and pull of the cuts on his arms. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood and heard the light ringing of the alarm go off, but did not stop. 

Snape let him, thought he did conjure a tea set and made up, then offered a mug to Harry, obviously trying to give him something else to focus on. Harry took the cup with a shaky hand and rested it on his knees after taking a small sip. 

“I have several questions that I need answers to, Mr Potter, if we are ever going to have any progress, so I will ask them and you will have the option to provide me with at least two answers tonight. If you are capable, I will have all your answers, otherwise we will continue this discussion tomorrow afternoon and more, until I am satisfied you are genuinely attempting to improve. 

Harry paled even further, the dark rings under his eyes standing out in contrast and giving the appearance of severe bruising. 

“First question, I would like to understand these eating habits of yours. Are they a reaction to stress so you do not feel hunger, are you attempting to self-harm by not eating, or do you have a genuine fear of weight gain or some other such thing?” 

Harry shrugged and Snape closed his eyes and breathed deeply for several moments, trying to reign in his frustration. 

“My second question would be a desire to understand the circumstances that brought about this severe relapse in your self-control.” Snape finally continued and Harry shrugged his shoulders again. 

“Lastly, I wish to continue discussing these nightmares you are continuing to experience, particularly tonight’s one, and the other nights one that had you physically ill on your bedroom floor.” 

Harry decided to answer the easiest one first and hope that Snape would find it enough tonight. 

“It’s not an eating disorder, as such,” he admitted, then flinched when Snape tuned his obsidian gaze on him and remained silent as he sorted through his words. 

“Look,” he managed, then took a sip of his chilling tea, “it was another way for my relatives to punish and belittle and abuse me, okay. They withheld food, or made me eat all the leftovers in the fridge, even if they’d gone bad. Me and food, never had a good relationship.” He started to shrug his shoulders again, but stopped when it was clear the gesture truly got on the professor’s nerves. 

“I just... I just don’t always feel hungry and sometimes the thought of eating makes me so nauseous and anxious and I know that’s what the stomach soother is for, but I guess if I’m going to be entirely honest, sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve the food.” 

“It’s not ‘cause I think I’m fat or anything,” he was quick to explain, “It’s just been drilled into my head for so long that when I’m having a bad day its harder to ignore. I’ll try harder, but it’s not something I always have complete control over, you know?” Harry was plaintive in his attempts to get Snape to understand what was going on, and so when Snape nodded brusquely he felt himself relax a little for the first time in hours. 

“Very well, I will be discussing this issue with Poppy, though. I find I am out of my element in this and she may have better ideas on how to manage it. You cannot afford to lose much more weight, Mr Potter.” Snape explained and Harry nodded reluctantly and leant back against his pillows to close his eyes. He felt the mostly filled cup of tea taken from his hand and relaxed back further, hoping Snape would leave the other questions and answers alone for now. 

“I require the answer to one more of my questions, Potter, then you may sleep.” Snape drawled out patiently and Harry growled and swore under his breath, apathy and tiredness and too much emotion disappearing under a wave of anger. 

“Why?” he ground out through clenched teeth. 

“Because, Mr Potter, I said so,” Snape drawled lazily and Harry threw himself back up into a sitting position, deliberately hitting his head hard against the wall as he did so. The chime in the living room went off again and Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry, but merely raised one eyebrow. 

“Just fucking leave it,” Harry shouted and tried to crawl off the bed to go hide in the bathroom. The door slammed shut and locked on him before he could get out however and he turned to face Snape now standing, with his wand out. 

Hands clenched into fists and turned to beat on the door, swearing and yelling and kicking. 

“Enough,” Snape said quietly and just like that all fight disappeared from Harry and he slumped down in front of the door and started to sob. He felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and his breath hitched. 

“Come, Mr Potter, back to bed,” Snape bent down to grasp an elbow and help pull Harry up, taking the majority of his weight as he led him back to bed, still crying but quiet now. 

Harry climbed onto the bed and pulled the blanket up around him like an invisibility cloak and looked at Snape, eyes red and wide and framed by long, wet lashes. 

“I will not pursue these questions tonight, Mr Potter, but I WILL pursue them.” he explained to Harry, who merely nodded his head and moved slowly down the bed until he was lying in a ball, face hidden now by the blankets. 

“I will, however, ask a new question.” he continued and Harry looked out at him with scared eyes but didn’t say anything. 

“Do you want the help we are providing you?” Snape asked and waited patiently while Harry thought about his answer. 

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted, and Snape nodded his head like he had expected an answer such as that. 

“Thank you for such an honest answer, Harry. Try to get some more rest.” Snape swept from the room on silent feet, closing the door behind him. 

Harry rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling as he pondered the question and his answer and it wasn’t until hours later as his eyes burned with fatigue and his head pounded with a headache, that he realised Snape had called him ‘Harry.’


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Seventeen 

 

 

When Snape knocked sharply on his door the next morning, his head still pounded and his eyes still burned, but his heart beat steady in his chest. He had spent the entire night thinking about Snape's last question about whether he actually wanted help or not, and had finally come to the conclusion that yes, he did. 

He knew that existing like this, in a state that was half blind terror and half complete and utter emptiness, was not going to end well for him and possibly those around him. He needed to FEEL. To learn how to get past all the negative emotions and experience the positive ones, even if he wasn’t all that familiar with them to begin with. 

When he failed to respond to the knock on his door, Snape rapped once more then entered the room. Harry looked at him from where he lay on his back on the bed through red rimmed eyes and Snape gave a heavy sigh at his appearance before pulling a potions vial from his pocket and offering it to him . 

“Pepper-up,” he explained at Harry’s inquisitive gaze, “I had hoped you would manage a small amount of sleep, but it is obvious that you did not.” 

 

Harry shrugged, feeling guilty for some unknown reason, and reached a hand out to take the potion. He grimaced at the sight of the bandages on his arm, stark white against his pale skin, and the guilt increased further. 

“I’m sorry,” he told his professor who raised an eyebrow but did not say anything. 

After he had downed the potion and waited for the steam to stop pouring from his ears, Harry reluctantly pulled himself out of bed and stood before Snape. 

“You will remain here today, Potter. You’re professors have already been informed, and Madame Pomfrey will be down to speak to you at some point.” Harry felt his cheeks flush lightly with embarrassment at the thought of the conversation he would have to have with the Medi-witch but remained silent. 

“You will come and eat a meal before I leave.” Snape finished and then turned on his heel and left the room without bothering to see if Harry would follow. Swallowing deeply, Harry threw a robe over his head for some much needed warmth and then headed out of his room and toward the living area. 

Snape indicated the chairs with a nod of his head, and once Hary sat, a lap tray was placed over his knees with a steaming bowl of oats decorated with berries and brown sugar. 

“You will eat as much of that as you can stomach,” the professor explained to Harry, who wrinkled his nose at the large bowl, but after swallowing the vial of stomach soother on the tray, he picked up the spoon and began. 

It was clear less than half way through the meal that he was full and simply forcing more food into his mouth in an effort to please Snape, who sat sipping a cup of tea, a permanent frown on his face which only deepened when it became evident Harry would simply eat until he made himself sick. 

“Enough, Potter.” he finally snapped and Harry jumped, dropping the spoon into the half-filled bowl and causing several flecks of oats and fruit to splash out onto the tray and his legs. 

“Sorry,” Harry mumbled and picked the tray up to place it on the table in front of him, where it was soon snapped up by a house elf. 

“I told you to eat as much as you could stomach, Mr Potter, not to make yourself ill.” Snape snarled out and Harry flinched back into his seat and apologised again. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” he explained hesitantly and Snape pinched his nose between two fingers for several long seconds before looking at Harry through clear, dark eyes. 

“Very well,” he said shortly, then stood up, “Madame Pomfrey will be by when she can, and I will return between classes to ensure you eat lunch. Until then, you are expected to rest, Mr Potter.” 

Harry nodded and watched the professor gather a pile of papers and head towards the door. Just as he was about to leave the room Harry called out softly. 

“I do want help.” He paused for a second, then shrugged his shoulders even though he knew it frustrated his professor. “I think.” 

Snape eyed him sharply, then nodded his head in understanding before he stepped through the door and it shut it heavily behind him. 

Harry breathed a deep sigh, then pushed down the surge of hatred he felt towards himself when his first thought was that he was alone and he could go and hurt himself in the shower without Snape knowing about it until he returned. 

He didn’t even feel like he needed to hurt, it was just his default thought now and he hated that he had gotten to this point. In an effort to forget the urge, and the subsequent feelings, then thoughts and memories that brought up, he moved off back to his room and sat on his bed with his transfigurations text. 

It only took about two minutes for the silence to get to him, and he was soon gathering an armful of work to take out to the living room where it didn’t seem as lonely. He was just managing to get into his work when a chime on the door rang, and then it opened to admit Madame Pomfrey, holding a medi-bag. 

He could feel her examining him, taking in the dark bruising under his eyes, the paleness of his cheeks and the white bandages poking from beneath the sleeves of the robe he wore, and he grimaced when she pursed her lips, but stood to greet her politely. 

“Good morning, Mr Potter,” she greeted as she stepped further into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind her. 

“Morning,” he mumbled and fought the urge to look down at his feet in guilt. 

“Sit, Mr Potter, you look as though a stiff breeze could knock you flat,” she told him firmly, then took Snape’s usual seat as he took his own. 

“Professor Snape told me you are still having issues with your meal consumption?” she asked him and he nodded. 

“Even with the stomach soother, I don’t feel hungry,” he told her. “I suppose I don’t ever really feel it, anymore.” 

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips again and pulled out her wand to cast several spells in his direction. 

“You have lost a further two pounds to what you were when I first weighed you, Mr Potter, you are dangerously close to suffering long term, serious effects of malnourishment.” she told him, then opened her medi-bag to grab a small vial off nutrient potion and handed it over to him. 

Harry grimaced at the sharp taste, but drank the entire vial before handing the empty glass back over. 

“You will be on those for a long time to come, Mr Potter, I would suggest you get used to the taste,” she told him brusquely and Harry grimaced again but didn’t bother protesting. 

“Now, tell me a little more about the issue, please, so that I can give you all the aid I can and we can prevent a serious relapse in your health.” 

Harry felt the protests rising to his lips, but bit his tongue instead of voicing them. He wanted the help, that’s what he’d told Snape just this morning and a part of getting help was going to be talking about things he’d rather not. 

He consoled himself with the thought that he didn't have to go into extreme detail, and sat back in his chair to regard to Medi-witch solemnly. 

“For as long as I can remember, my relatives used food against me.” he began, then unable to resist, he pulled his knees up to his chest to cuddle them close before he continued. 

“They liked to see how many days I could go without before I passed out, or how much expired food I could eat before I was sick. When they weren't playing those sorts of games with me, I would receive one or two slices of bread and a mouldy piece of fruit and that was it.” 

“My first night here, when I saw all the food laid out on the tables, I ate like an animal, or like Ron,” he managed to joke weakly, earning a snort from the medi-witch. 

“I then spent the night curled on the bathroom floor with severe cramps, after I had vomited up all I had eaten. Ron believed the story that I had just stuffed myself stupid, and I knew better from then. I kept my meals small, and snuck bread or fruit from the table to eat between meals. I built my stomach up slowly but surely over the year, and despite everything that happened with Quirrel, by the end of year feast I was able to eat as much as anyone else at the table and I felt fantastic.” 

“Then I went back to the Dursleys,” he finished wryly. “That summer was spent feeling hunger pangs I hadn’t felt in a long time, and it only took the weeks back there for all the weight I’d gained to drop off and undo all my efforts with my stomach.” 

“I decided not to bother when I returned in second year, and no one ever really commented on what I ate except maybe Hermione when she was in a really bossy, nosy mood.” 

Harry buried his head into his knees, exhausted when he finally finished speaking and was grateful when Madame Pomfrey tapped him gently on the leg then offered him a glass of water. 

“Then we will take this as slow as we can, Mr Potter, but you ARE in danger of becoming seriously ill. I would confine you to bed rest as it is, if I thought I could actually keep you there.” Harry gave her a small smile at that comment, but was too exhausted to speak. 

“Instead, you will have a daily double strength nutrient potion, which I will give to Professor Snape to provide, to ensure you actually take it,” Harry frowned at that but she continued as though she didn't; see. “You will also have an appetite stimulant before each meal, as well as the stomach soother. You will not increase your appetite if you do not eat.” She explained, and Harry nodded, resigned to having to take a plethora of disgusting potions. 

“Now then,” Madame Pomfrey said curtly, “would you like to explain the bandages on your arms?“ 

Harry blushed a deep red and drew his arms closer, protectively. 

“No,” he told her stubbornly, then sighed deeply when she only sat quietly and watched. 

“Professor Snape dealt with them,” he finally told her and she frowned at that before nodding stiffly. 

“Very well,” she allowed, then pulled two vials from her bag and placed them on the table before closing it and standing up. 

“Your stomach soother and appetite stimulant,” she explained as she moved over towards the door. 

“Mr Potter,” she started before she opened the door, and Harry turned in his chair to look at her. “I am here if you need someone to listen,” she told him, then left the room leaving Harry alone once more. 

Snape found him sitting in the same spot a little over an hour later, and after taking in the protective curling in of his body and the slight tremble in his arms, he stepped into his bedroom and returned with a half dose of calming draught. 

“Madame Pomfrey sought me out to explain what steps we will be taking regarding your food issues and how well you did today in opening up,” he explained when Harry looked at the offered potion with a questioning expression. 

After several minutes he was able to uncurl, and he shook his head at the calming potion. 

“I need to drink too many as it is,” he spoke quietly, “I’ll be fine.” Snape eyed him for several long minutes before nodding his head. “Very well.” He summoned his house elf and ordered a plate of mixed sandwiches and a bowl of fruit salad and then plated up some food before passing it across to Harry. 

“Potions first, then eat what you can, not what you think I want you to.” he told Harry who nodded and did as he was told. 

Lunch was quiet, filled only with the soft sounds of chewing and swallowing and with the two potions in his stomach, Harry was able to complete an entire sandwich and a small bowl of fruit salad before he started to feel uncomfortable. When Snape seemed satisfied his efforts, he was unable to supress the small amount of pride that welled up in him and he offered a small smile to the professor. 

“Thank you,” he told Snape. 

“We are a long way off yet, Mr Potter, but if you continue to retain this new found acceptance then we will see you well.” 

 

 

 

The next couple of days passed much the same. Madame Pomfrey had decided that bed rest was unlikely to be achieved, but keeping him confined to Snape’s quarters was attainable and so he was kept from class and Snape brought his schoolwork to him at the end of the day. 

His nightmares continued, but they were mild in comparison to what they had been and each night Snape would come into his room and sit with him until he had calmed down. Then Harry did his best to talk about the dreams; the basilisk fang piercing his arm, Riddles wrinkled tiny body as it was placed into the cauldron in the graveyard, his vision of Mr Weasley getting attacked by Nagini, the maniacal laughter from his uncle as he whipped him bloody. 

Each time he would share a piece of himself, Harry would feel simultaneously lighter and heavier and it confused him until he realised why. Talking about the event solidified it. It wasn't just a bad dream or a story he’d heard, but something real, an experience he’d had and memorised and a burden he would always carry. But sharing it lightened that load, gave little of it over for Snape to carry for him. 

Things weren’t perfect, as evidenced by the scratches on his thighs, and the bruises on the inside of his cheeks, but they were slowly improving and for the first time in a very long time Harry was finally feeling optimistic about his future. 

When he’d told Snape that the night before, he’d paused and eyed Harry for a moment before he’d asked how Harry had felt about his future before this. 

“I don‘t know,” he’d confessed and shrugged his shoulders eliciting a growl from his professor. 

“Truly, I don’t.” he continued. “I guess I figured that Voldemort would eventually kill me, if my uncle didn't get there first.” 

“Did you ever consider ‘getting there first?’” Snape had asked and Harry had needed to pause for a very long time before he answered. 

“Sometimes,” he finally confessed. “When I was lying in my room in pain from a beating, or the visions from Voldemort were so fierce I’d wake up covered in sick and sweat. I never could do it, though.” 

“For which many are grateful,” Snape replied evenly and Harry had blushed bright red and refused to talk any more. 

 

Now, Madame Pomfrey had finally declared him fit enough to get back to class and he was equally eager to go and extremely nervous to see his classmates. He had not seen or spoken to Blaise since running out on him and he cringed every time he thought about it. 

Asking Snape when he could go back to Gryffindor and the tower only ever elicited a growl from the man and so Harry had given up asking, impatient but accepting that he would have to wait a while before he could be trusted again. 

He ate his breakfast in Snape’s quarters, despite the professors urging to go to the great hall, and was eternally thankful for all the potions he took. He was sure without the stimulant and soother, there was no way he could have eaten past the butterflies in his stomach and he’d have both Madame Pomfrey and Snape on his back again. 

He timed it so he stepped out of the rooms after the initial stampede of kids making their way to breakfast and classes, so the passage was clear. By the time all the other Slytherins were nearing their first class of the day, Harry was already seated on the floor by the door with a textbook in hand. 

Whispers greeted him as people noticed him sitting there, and he did his best to ignore them all until Flitwick opened his classroom and invited them in, welcoming Harry warmly back to class. 

“Where have you been then?“ Goyle took the empty seat next to Harry and waited for him to answer. 

“I was sick,” he said simply and when it looked like Goyle was going to push, Harry sighed deeply and put his book down to turn and face the boy. He could see Blaise out of the corner of his eye, and turned briefly to give him a small smile before turning back to Goyle. 

“I’d lost a lot of weight, due to being sick and I was on bed rest. Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t let me go anywhere.” he explained as truthfully as he could and fought down the blush that wanted to warm his cheeks as he felt both Goyle and Blaise looking him over. 

“You look okay, now,” Goyle told him and he nodded in response. 

“I’m on a whole lot of potions that I’ll be on for a while, but I’m fine” 

“Good,” Goyle said simply, then turned back to his own text book. 

 

 

At the end of class, Harry was packing up his books and papers when he heard someone call his name softly. He looked up find Blaise approaching him hesitantly. 

“I’m sorry,” they both blurted out. 

“Why are you sorry?” Harry asked and Blaise ran his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. 

“I'm sorry for pushing you,” he admitted and Harry frowned for a second before he realised what Blaise was talking about. 

“You didn’t push,” he explained, “I just have a bunch of issues to deal with.” It was Harry’s turn to run his hand over the back of his neck in his own gesture of embarrassment. “Something had happened the night before, and I guess it affected me more than I had realised,” he admitted with pink stained cheeks. 

“Please don’t feel like you did anything wrong. I’M sorry, for running away and then staying away for a long time without offering you an explanation. I could have sent a note or asked Professor Snape if you could visit and instead I left you feeling guilty this whole time.” Harry felt horrible for doing that to his friend and could feel the guilt building up in his chest, so he bit his cheek until blood flooded his mouth but that just made more guilt. 

“It’s fine, Harry, I’m just glad you’re alright,” Blaise told him, then stepped closer to examine Harry’s face. 

“You are alright?” he pushed. 

“No,” Harry confessed, “but I think I will be.” Surprised at his honesty, he blushed and rubbed the back of his neck once more. He’d fully come back to class expecting Blaise to be angry with him but he knew he should have expected more from the kind-hearted Slytherin. 

“Would you like to have a game of chess this afternoon?” Blaise asked and Harry paused causing Blaise to continue. 

“Just a game of chess, as friends,” he explained and Harry smiled at his attempts to make it feel more casual even though Harry could practically feel the attraction and determination coming off the boy in front of him. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for it, just yet,” he finally admitted and felt his heart sink as an unidentifiable expression flickered over Blaise’s face before he took two steps back. 

“Oh, okay,” the boy stammered out and Harry reached his hand out for a second before drawing it back in. 

“Look,” he said, scrubbing his face with his hands, “I know it’s cliché and all, but it’s not you, it’s me.” Blaise managed a small smile but it fell quickly and Harry could feel the friendship slipping through his fingers. 

“Please,” he croaked out through a suddenly dry throat, “Please. Ask me again a month from now.” 

Blaise nodded his head and after giving Harry one last smile, grabbed his bag from his table and left Harry standing alone in the room. He was drawn from his head a few moments later when several first years tumbled into the room and he blushed then swore as he realised he was going to be late for his next class.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen 

 

 

He spent the remainder of this classes either sitting quietly with Goyle or at the back of the room by himself. Thanks to Snape bringing him his classwork and homework, he was almost fully caught up but for the practical aspects of charms, transfiguration and potions. 

Lunch was spent sitting at the Slytherin table, although he simply smiled a greeting at everyone then opened a book to read so he was left alone. If anyone noticed the potions that appeared and were then taken surreptitiously, they didn’t say anything and for that Harry was grateful. 

Afternoon classes were a little harder as the potions might have helped him eat the food without getting sick,but he still felt uncomfortably heavy and sleepy. He’d have to bring the issue up with Snape or Pomfrey if it got any harder to ignore. Falling asleep in History of Magic was almost expected, but if it happened in a Transfiguration class he’d lose points and end up in front of Snape anyway. 

He was just leaving his last class of the day, head bent over his bag as he shoved his unused parchment back in, when a shadow fell over him. Harry looked up startled, but gave a nod when he recognised the witch in front of him. 

“Hello, Harry.” Hermione said giving him a small smile of her own. “Can we talk?” 

Harry nodded his head and indicated that she should lead the way. Hermione moved off with a nod of her head and several minutes later they found themselves in a small alcove by a window that looked out over the greenhouses. Hermione visibly gathered herself then looked Harry in the eye. 

“I’m sorry, Harry,” she told him then deflated when Harry continued to simply look at her. 

“Go on,” he finally pushed after several awkward moments of silence. “What exactly are you sorry for?” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t write to you over the summer. I’m sorry that I failed to see the things right in front of me and I’m sorry I didn’t help Ron see how much of a prat he’s been.” 

Harry smiled at the last one but shook his head. “Ron is not your responsibility, ‘Mione.” she smiled at the nickname that fell from Harry mouth, but shook her head in return. 

“It kind of its both our faults, you know. He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed unless you’re talking strategy, whether its chess or quidditch. He’s a prodigy when It comes down to that, but anything else especially emotions, and he might as well be a rock.” She reached out to pat Harry gently on his arm, but drew back quickly when he flinched at the light touch. 

“I miss you,” she said simply and Harry seemed to deflate before he turned and sat on the wide window sill. 

“I miss you too,” he confessed causing the bushy haired girl to smile widely before she sat next to him. 

“I was just so angry and sad about Sirius and I guess I really looked forward to venting to you over he holidays and having you inundate me with so much facts about loss and depression and statistics for this and that, I’d eventually be driven to see reason.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“I guess I also hoped Ron would invite me to the burrow once the wards on my uncles house had charged up enough and I’d get to spend some time with people who actually liked me. Then there was nothing and I was so angry and disappointed.” 

 

“Oh, Harry,” Hermione was clearly trying not to cry. “I am so sorry,” she burst out and then leaned forward to pull him into a hug, ignoring his flinch and then squeezing tighter when he finally relaxed into her hold. 

“Can you ever forgive me?” she asked when she eventually let go and pulled back. 

“I forgave you ages ago, ‘Mione, I just hadn’t realised it yet.” he admitted causing a small giggle to escape the girl before she turned serious eyes back on him. 

“What about Ron?” she asked and Harry clenched his jaw and looked out the window. 

“I’ll be honest,” he started, not looking at her, “Ron was the first friend I ever made. I can’t imagine having that just mean nothing. But he needs to speak to me himself and he needs to change. I’m hoping to eventually come back to the tower, but I wont forget the friends I’ve now made in Slytherin. He needs to be open to that.” 

“I think we all needed to realise that things aren't just going to magically go back to how they were. We all lost trust in each other and it’s not going to just come back over night. It needs to be earned again.” 

He turned to look at her now. “I hope you’re willing to try.” 

“Always, Harry,” she told him, finally getting a small smile in return. 

“Now,” she turned serious, “How are you? You missed a few classes and I saw you taking a potion at breakfast and lunch today.” Harry groaned as his friends nosiness reappeared now that she was certain he wasn’t going to push her away, but answered her honestly. 

“I haven’t been well,” he explained, “I’ll be taking several potions a day for a while yet.” She eyed him up and down, taking in his appearance, then pursed her lips. 

“You’ve lost weight,” she surmised and he nodded but didn’t offer an explanation. 

“Are you better now?” she asked when she understood that although he had forgiven her, he obviously wasn’t about to confide in her. 

“I will be,” he answered and she seemed to accept that before going on to tell him all about the latest books she’d been reading in the library. 

They remained in the alcove talking about inconsequential things until they realised dinner would begin soon. Harry chose to walk down to the hall alone, but allowed Hermione to give him a another hug without flinching. 

 

 

It was a lonely couple of days later that found Harry once more in an alcove, window cracked open as much as the safety spells on it would allow and a book in his hands. The book was open, with one finger wedged in between the pages, but he hadn’t read a single word since he’d opened it over twenty minutes beforehand. 

Instead his gaze was outside, at the blue sky and white fluffy clouds skimming along. He could hear students outside, taking advantage of the weekend and nice weather and he was sorely missing the feel of sunshine on his arms and face. He still wasn’t allowed to use glamours, his recent weight loss a danger to his core already, and so stripping down to shirt and trousers like the people he could see from his window was a no-go. 

Loneliness enveloped him in a thick cloud, making him feel heavy and more depressed than he had felt in days. The alert charm and scroll lay silent and empty, he hadn’t done anything at all in days, not even in his sleep, but he was fighting a serious urge to just chew his cheek to pieces. 

He hadn’t been in the Slytherin common room for days, despite invitations from Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson, and the time spent on his own was beginning to get to him. 

Sudden footsteps very close to his hiding spot had him ripping his gaze from the window in time to see the curtain covering him pulled open a fraction and a familiar red head peeking through. 

“Hey,” Ron spoke hesitantly and more quietly than Harry had ever heard him. “'Mione said you might be hiding in one of these windows. Can we talk?” 

Harry regarded the first friend he had ever made with solemn green eyes for several moments before nodding and moving over on the seat to make space. Ron stepped into the alcove, allowing the curtain to fall back into place before sitting hesitantly. 

“Look,” he began, “I’m sorry for how we might have handled things this summer and then when we finally got to see you. But I’m not sorry for standing up to you when you were rude to ‘Mione.” 

Harry continued to stare at Ron quietly until the red head flushed, making his freckles fade into the red cheeks. 

“I’m not angry because of that Ron.” Harry said finally. “I’m angry because I was left alone this summer when I should have been with all of you. I was grieving and scared and lonely and you all chose to listen to Dumbledore when you should have known better. I wasn’t asking you to share intimate details in the post, I just wanted to know that someone out there hadn’t forgotten about me.” Harry took a deep breath and fought back the growing urge to harm himself. 

“I just needed to know that when I was finally for released from the Dursleys' for a new school year that I would have my friends standing by me, to give me the strength to get through the summer. Instead I got pitiful excuses and then silence from the few people I actually loved and trusted.” 

Ron paled at the past tense and opened his mouth to speak, but Harry held his hand up to stop him. 

“I told ‘Mione that I had already forgiven you. I know that I’m not the only one who had a hard time in the fight in the ministry. I also know you were doing what you believed was best, even if it was misguided. It still stretched out what bonds of trust I had with all of you and it’s taken me a little while to realise that I either have to snap those bonds completely and start fresh, or actively work to fix them instead of doing nothing.” 

Ron ran a hand through his hair, making a mess of it and looked out the window at the people below. 

“So we can be friends again?” he asked, “I’ve missed you, mate.” 

“I’m not sure,” Harry replied, putting his book back in his bag before he stood up. “But I’d like to give it another try.” Harry gave Ron one last, small smile before slipping through the curtains and away. 

 

 

He sat at the Slytherin table again that night, but instead of pulling his book back out of his bag and burying his head in its pages like he had at every meal the last few days, he greeted his friends with a small smile. 

To their credit, not one acted like any thing had changed and they merely adjusted their seating and body language to once again include the dark haired boy in their conversations. Harry sent a small, tentative smile in Blaise’s direction then blushed red when it was returned. 

Ducking his head, he swallowed the potions that appeared to hide his flushed cheeks, then helped himself to some food. 

He was invited to the common room again after everyone had eaten, but declined with the excuse of homework to complete and headed back to Snape's rooms. 

 

“You are looking particularly cheerful this evening, Mr Potter,” Snape drawled out at the sight of Harry sitting in his usual chair, chewing on a sugar quill whilst reading a text book. 

“I’ve spoken to ‘Mione and Ron now and I think maybe it can be good between us again.” Harry admitted. 

“You do you know that you may never have the same sort of relationship that you did, though?” Snape asked more gently than Harry would have thought possible a year ago. 

“I know,” he shrugged his shoulders then smirked at the professor when he growled lowly. “But I miss them.” 

“You were practically glued at the hips,” Snape gave Harry a smirk of his own, causing the boys smile to widen then fall. 

“What is it, Mr Potter?” Snape questioned, noting the sudden change in him. 

“Were we though?” he asked and Snape raised an eyebrow in silent question. 

“Glued at the hip?” Harry elaborated. “I mean, you’re right, we were closer than I’d ever been to anyone else, but how close were we really? I never shared anything really personal with them and beyond a few questions in first year, they never asked.” Harry fidgeted with his sugar quill before putting in down on the table in front of him. 

“The signs were there, clues that maybe things weren’t what they appeared, and they knew some of what was going on because they would send me food and things. Hell, Ron pulled the bars of my window in second year.” 

“Language, Mr Potter.” Snape responded, causing Harry to look at him, annoyance showing clearly on his face. 

“You did hide it well,” Snape pointed out and Harry grimaced. “It is also very likely that in coming from the loving homes they do, that it was hard for them to conceive even the little bit of abuses they were aware of. In their simple minded naivete, they may have thought that the little they knew was as bad as it could possibly get. Their smaller world views simply not preparing them for a worse home life than they already thought you experienced.” 

Snape summoned a house elf and ordered tea for the both of them and then settled back into his chair with it once it arrived before continuing. 

“You also, I imagine, were stubbornly persistent that all was fine in the world and that the safety the blood wards provided beat out any and all abuses. Am I correct?” 

Harry blushed and took several large sips from his tea before he responded. 

“i guess you’re right,” he confessed, “I did always tell them to leave it alone.” Guilt coursed through him when he realised that part of his anger towards them for never noticing anything was wrong was unfair and Snape seemed to realised that. 

“You were justified in your anger, Harry.” he told him gently. “Perhaps not in your actions or behavior, but your feelings are your own to experience how ever you need to.” Snape finished his drink and stood. 

“Go to bed, Mr Potter, I am sure you can seek your friends out tomorrow and have a good talk with them, if you wish.” 

It wasn't until Harry was lying in his bed that he realised Snape had called him Harry again. 

 

 

“Freak!” his uncle roared and Harry sat up in bed, heart racing hard and breath shallow. 

“Freak!” his uncle called again and Harry fell from his bed in a mess of ragged blankets with a loud thud. He untangled himself from the blankets in time for his uncle to come slamming into his room, door bouncing harshly of the wall and leaving a hole where the door handle hit. 

“What did I tell you?” he roared again and Harry instinctively flinched back and held his arms up to cover his head protectively. 

“I...I don’t know, Uncle Vernon,” he managed to stutter out, only enraging his uncle more with his mumbles. 

“I told you no mumbo jumbo nonsense in my house and then you go and ruin, RUIN I tell you, her prized roses.” he thundered at Harry and raised a fist. 

“I don’t...” Harry managed to get out before a beefy fist fell down on the arm in front of his face, hitting it hard enough that it was pushed forward into his nose and causing a spray of blood to burst out. 

His uncle, on seeing that several specks of blood had made their way to speckle the white work shirt he wore, stepped forward and bashed Harry around the back of his head several times. 

Harry fought off the darkness that threatened his vision and managed to crab crawl out from his uncles clutches and push himself against his wall. Blood still flowed from his nose and knowing if he got any on the carpet he would be dead he quickly bunched his shirt up and shoved it over his nose, hissing at the pain the actions caused. 

“I didn’t do anything to the rose, except prune them,” he managed to get out around his throbbing nose and aching head. 

“Liar!“ his uncle screamed and approached him again, fists not raised but still clenched by his sides. “Dudley saw you out there, mumbling nonsense just yesterday and now they are DEAD!” 

“Up! Boy! Come and see what you’ve done.” Vernon pulled Harry roughly to his feet then proceeded to haul him down the stairs by his hair, causing the pain in his head from the bashing to be triple fold. 

Once they were outside in the gray light of a cool summers morning, Harry was able to see just what his uncle was talking about. The rose bushes he’d tended to just yesterday were now sickly and brown and surrounded by withered, fallen roses. 

He was dead. It didn’t matter if this was some sort of accidental magic or if something else had happened, he was dead. Still dragged over by his hair, his uncle pushed him to his knees in front of one of the bushes and then kicked him hard in the back until he fell forward. 

Dead or not, it still held sharp thorns that dug into his hands and arms, then his face and he was kicked again. 

“What did you do?” Vernon whispered. They were outside now, he coudn't yell, it would draw attention from the neighbors. 

“N...Nothing,” he stammered out from his spot lying among the thorny dead branches. 

“You will remove every plant from this garden that you destroyed, then you will walk to the garden centre to purchase more. You will not eat for a long time to pay for the costs of the new plants.” His uncle whispered then kicked him in the back before grinding his foot down and pushing Harry further into the sharp thorny branches beneath him. 

A last kick to the head and his uncle stormed back inside. A whistle brought his attention to Dudley standing by the shed, and through his hazy vision he could just make out his cousin holding up a can of poison. He passed out to the sounds of his cousins laughter. 

 

 

 

Harry woke sweating and pulling sharply at his hair, attempting to draw in breaths of air. Snape entered his room and he could vaguely hear the sound of the alert charm going off. 

“Calm down, Mr Potter, it was a dream, and you are awake now.” Snape spoke quietly and calmly and eventually Harry was able to calm down and breathe a little easier. 

“Not a dream,” he mumbled, causing Snape to raise an eyebrow. 

“Not a dream,” he repeated, “A memory.” A stinging in his arms had him glancing down with dismay at several long red lines in the flesh. 

“I haven’t done that in days,” he whispered, anger and sadness coating his words thickly. 

“Do not be disheartened,” Snape told him, “I am not expecting an easy recovery and neither should you be. You were asleep and unaware of your actions.” 

Harry just shrugged his shoulders and drew his blankets up to cover himself, despite the heavy layer of sweat coating his body. Snape raised his wand and a minute later the sweat was removed and Harry felt a little better. 

Thirty minutes later, Harry had shared his memory and drunk a small cup of hot chocolate. His heart rate had finally dropped back to normal and his eyes were drooping with exhaustion. 

Snape stood and banished their glasses to the kitchen. “Go back to sleep, Mr Potter. It is still relatively early in the morning and as tomorrow is a Sunday I am not opposed to either of us having a small lie in.” 

Harry managed a small smile and snuggled down into his blankets and was asleep soon after. 

 

When he did eventually wake again and force himself up, he washed quickly in the shower, avoiding looking at his arms. Snape was already sitting in the living area with two breakfast trays in front of him and Harry's usual potions when he eventually made his way in search of food. 

They ate in a comfortable silence and then Harry excused himself to go off in search of his friends. It was early enough that breakfast would still be available in the great hall and so he made his way there first. His instincts were right, as both Ron and Hermione were sitting at the half empty Gryffindor table. 

Hermione was reading a newspaper and Ron was busy stuffing as many pancakes in his mouth that would fit, so Harry was almost on top of them by the time they noticed him. He gave them both a shy smile and sat on the bench next to Hermione and across from Ron. 

“Harry!” Hermione greeted him happily. 

“Hey Mate!” Ron looked up from his food to give him a large grin. 

“Hey, guys,” Harry replied quietly and reached over to pour himself a cup of tea. 

“You want some breakfast, mate?” Ron asked and Harry shook his head. 

“No, I ate earlier,” he explained. Ron opened his mouth clearly to ask questions, but Hermione must have kicked him under the table, because he shoveled a forkful of food in instead. Harry looked at Hermione gratefully. 

“I was wondering if we could talk?” he asked when he’d finished his drink and Ron looked to finally be done. 

They both nodded and all three teens stood and left the hall in search of a private space. They settled on an empty classroom not far from the great hall and once the door was closed, Hermione pulled out her wand and cast several privacy spells on the door and windows. 

“I just wanted to explain some things,” Harry told his friends when they were finally all siting in some chairs they’d found in the room. 

“I still think I was justified in my anger at you guys for not writing to me over the summer. But I also think maybe I could have written and told you how and why I was feeling the way I was. I never really gave you guys a chance.” Harry confessed and looked down at his hands, playing with the cuff of his school robe while he waited for them to respond. 

“Oh, Harry.” Hermione murmured before leaning forward to pull him into a hug. 

“i think we are all at fault here. We all behaved immaturely and not very much like ‘the golden trio’ as we should have. It’s in the past, I think we should leave it there. We’re all sorry and if we just keep dwelling on what we could have done, rather than what we can do now, we’ll never mend this friendship. 

Ron nodded his head to Hermione's speech and caused Harry to smile. 

“You’re right ‘Mione, but if you think there's something you need to know, ask now.” Harry told her, then braced himself for the usual onslaught of Hermione's interrogations. 

She was silent for several long moments before she sat back in her seat and really seemed to take in his appearance. 

“I won’t lie, Harry, there is a lot of questions running through my head at the moment. Like what happened when you ended up hiding in a closet in the hospital wing, or why are you still in snape's rooms and not the Slytherin dorm, or what other things you’re hiding from us.” 

Hermione smiled and looked over at Ron. “But we talked about it last night and we decided that it wasn't our right to push for those answers, or even ask them, and that if you need to keep these secrets, it‘s okay with us. I just want to ask one question, and it’s an intrusive one, so really we don’t deserve an answer to it either. But I have to ask.” 

Harry looked at Hermione and Ron and their serious expressions and forced his shoulders back in preparation. “What?” 

“Are you safe?” Hermione asked, then seemed to hold her breath for Harry’s answer. 

“I wasn’t,” he admitted after a moments silence, “but right now I am safer than I have been for a very long time.” They both exhaled deeply in relief and Hermione offered him a smile. 

“Maybe, eventually, I’ll be able to share more with you,” Harry offered in thanks to their not pushing and Ron gave him a smile as large as Hermione's. 

“Well, now the heavy stuff is over, let me tell you about all the things Seamus has managed to blow up since you’ve been gone.” Harry huffed out a laugh and felt his body relax further as Ron rambled on. 

 

He had a huge smile on his face as he made his way back to Snapes quarters after lunch in the great hall with Hermione and Ron. He’d waved to his Slytherin friends, most of whom had simply raised an eyebrow at the sight of him at the Gryffindor table and then offered small smiles. 

He decided to work on an essay in charms that was due Thursday and so headed straight for his bedroom and school bag. He’d pulled out the required text book and ink and quill and was searching for a blank sheet of parchment when his hand brushed against a ball of scrunched up paper. 

Curious, he pulled it out and unfolded it before he paled and dropped the sheet on his bed. 

'You will get yours eventually, boy-who-lived-to-die.'


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know its been a while since I posted a chapter and I would firstly like to apologise to the few people who chose to follow my story. First, the computer I was using was broken, then LIFE happened, then the dreaded writers' block.   
> I still don't have true access to a computer, I am currently using my husbands when I can (which isn't often), and I still have a little writers' block.   
> Updates will be sporadic, not always edited and probably poorly written, but this story is not abandoned.   
> Thank you for taking the time to read/continue my work.

Chapter nineteen 

 

He stood in complete silence for several long seconds then bent down to pick up the small piece of paper where it had nestled amongst his bed covers. The note was written in a deep red ink, so dark it almost looked black, but the paper was obviously torn from a standard student scroll and the writing was blocky and impersonal. 

Harry hesitated for long moments and then scrunched the note in one fist and moved across the room to dump it in his small trash can. He shook his head roughly a couple of times and then turned his back on the piece of paper and grabbed his bag to move back out into the living area. 

He took his charms essay out and forced himself to concentrate so that when Professor Snape entered the quarters just before lunch was due to begin, he was only a couple inches short of completion. He acknowledged Snape with a small wave of his hand and then bent his head back down to complete the paragraph he was on. 

“Harry!” he heard Snape snap loudly and startled he looked up, narrowly avoiding knocking his ink pot over his work. He scowled at the man in front of him and then immediately regretted it when he got an arched eyebrow in return. 

“Mr. Potter, I attempted to get your attention several times. Where I don’t doubt your narrow field of concentration, you generally do not get so lost in your work that you fail to take note of your surroundings. Has something happened that needs to be addressed?” 

Harry guiltily thought back to the note crumpled up in his room and briefly considered showing it to his professor but decided he was being difficult enough as it was and some random note from a passive-aggressive classmate didn’t need to be a big deal. He shook his head and then took the moments to cap his ink to take a deep breath. 

“I’m fine, Professor, just had a conversation with Hermione and Ron this morning, and I mean it went well, or better than I could have hoped, but it’s just exhausting you know?” 

“Very well,” Snape inclined his head in acknowledgment, “it is time for lunch.” 

Harry was grateful that Snape decided not to pursue anything and after shoving all his things back into his bag he strode quickly to his room to place the bag just in the doorway and then followed after as his professor headed to the great hall. 

As usual, he took his seat at the Slytherin table and after sharing a small smile with the table in general he downed the potions that appeared before him and then helped himself to his food. His appetite seemed to be non-existent again and though he was thankful for the stomach soother and appetite stimulant, it was extremely difficult to force down a bowl of soup and a buttered roll. 

His stomach felt queasy at the end of the meal and so he simply waved goodbye to his friends and headed back to his quarters for a nap. Biting his lip at the annoying feeling of wanting to avoid his bedroom he forced himself there and fell face first onto his bed with a groan. 

‘It’s just a note,’ he told himself and screamed quietly into his pillow when he shuddered at the memory of the words written down. Forcing deep even breaths, Harry worked through all the charms he’d learned and the corresponding wand movements until he fell into a restless sleep. 

He woke less than an hour later with another groan at the headache that seemed to have settle behind his eyes and forced himself to get up. Professor Snape was sitting at the small dining table with students' work spread haphazardly around him and when he looked up from his work his eyes immediately narrowed before he lay down his quill and stood to walk over to his rooms. 

He returned a moment later and held a small pain relief potion out for Harry. “Headache?” he questioned then moved across to get a glass of water when Harry nodded and took the vial from him. 

“Drink this,” he stated simply and handed the glass to Harry and waited until it was drained before he moved back to the table and his work. 

“You did not consume enough at lunch today, Mr. Potter, is it because you were feeling unwell or is there another reason?” When Harry shrugged wordlessly, Snape shook his head. 

“I require a response Mr Potter,” he pushed and Harry huffed before shrugging again. 

“I don’t know?” he tried, eliciting a deeper frown from his professor. 

“Try.” 

Harry huffed and dropped down onto his favorite chair. 

“I don’t know!” he declared loudly in frustration and fought the urge to tear at his hair. Professor Snape conjured a small ball and stood from his seat to hand it over to Harry. 

“Squeeze that,” he said simply and Harry took it with a frown on his face but found that squeezing it with his fist alleviated his urges fairly well and he offered a small smile to his professor and a mumbled thanks. 

“I can see you are having a difficult afternoon but you have to understand by now that we need to work together even when times are difficult or you will never improve. 

Harry growled and shoved his head into the crook of his elbow whilst bringing his knees up to chest. 

“Why?” he whined into his arms, “I’ve been doing good talking to you when I have a nightmare or whatever and I haven’t deliberately hurt myself in days. So why can’t I just sometimes have a day where I’m tired or sick or whatever and I DON’T have to talk all about it?” 

Snape regarded him silently for several long minutes while Harry fought back tears caused by frustration and annoyance at himself. 

“Very well, Mr Potter. You state you do not know why you are feeling as you are and I am choosing to believe this to be the truth. However, I will point out that should you figure out your emotions you may come to me at any time of day or night if they become overwhelming or hard to work through on your own.” 

“I will also expect you to visit Madame Pomfrey if your headache persists beyond today. Dinner is not for a little while, and I believe we will both eat here, so I suggest you head back to your bedroom and try to rest a little longer.” 

Harry grunted and moved his shoulders in acknowledgment but found that he had no energy to say anything let alone go back to his room. Instead, he curled himself awkwardly into a ball on the chair, keeping his face hidden in the arm of the chair in an effort to avoid both looking at his professor and the glare of the light in the room. 

Snape just huffed quietly to himself before Harry heard him stand and walk back over to the table. Seconds later the quiet sound of a quill scratching on paper filled the room and pulled Harry into a state that wasn't quite sleeping but felt just as restful. 

It felt like only moments later than Snape was resting a hand on his shoulder and encouraging him to move across to the table for dinner. All the papers had been packed away and a plate of roast lamb and vegetables lay at his usual place, a large glass of ice water sitting next to it. 

Harry downed the potions offered to him and then mechanically ate the food in front of him. He stopped when his stomach felt full and looked at Snape to ask if he’d eaten enough. When he received a short nod, Harry excused himself from the table and ten minutes later when Professor Snape stuck his head into his room to check on him he was almost asleep. 

 

 

Morning arrived quicker than Harry would have liked, but despite the days events Harry had gone the entire night without a nightmare and he felt better than he had in days. That stupid note could have been in his mess of a bag for months and maybe it had been upsetting but he’d made serious forward progress with Ron and Hermione and he wasn’t going to let anything ruin the happiness he felt about that. 

He ate easily at the Slytherin table and then excused himself when he spied Hermione and Ron move into the hall together. 

“Morning,” he told them both as he took a seat on the bench next to Ron. 

“Morning, Harry,” they both responded and Hermione placed a mug of tea in front of Harry but didn’t pressure him with any food. Ron piled his usual breakfast onto his plate before he turned to Harry. 

“How are you mate?” he asked as he dug into his toast. 

“Fine,” Harry replied and when Hermione eyed him from around Ron’s back, Harry let out a small huff of laughter. 

“No, really, Mione, I’m fine. I slept really well last night and I had a good breakfast and we’ve got double potions this morning and now I can actually get the work done without Malfoy causing trouble I enjoy the class.” 

“Is it because you’re partnered up with Blaise?” Hermione asked, a cheeky smile on her face causing Ron to frown in confusion. Harry laughed at Ron’s face and fought the blush that threatened to stain his cheeks.   
“Shut up, Mione,” he responded, only causing her smile to widen and Ron’s frown to deepen. 

“Am I missing something?” he asked and Harry laughed again louder this time and despite his confusion, Ron couldn’t fight his own smile at hearing his friend laughing for the first time in a long time. 

“Nothing,” Hermione finally answered and Ron seemed to have matured enough that he chose to shrug his shoulders and continue eating instead of pushing it like he would have done a year ago. 

Harry bumped him with his shoulder, grateful at the behavior and took a small sip of his tea which he then proceeded to spit out across the table. 

“What the hell, Harry?!” Ron looked at his friend as he leaned protectively over his breakfast attempting to keep it safe from Harry’s spluttering. 

“Salt,” Harry managed to sputter out before reaching for a jug of pumpkin juice in front of him and drinking deeply from it, causing a few people to frown in his direction. 

“What?” 

“Hermione, you added salt to my tea, not sugar!” Harry finally managed to respond causing Ron to laugh so hard he had to stop protecting his food to clutch at his stomach. 

“Mione!” he declared loudly causing the girl to squeak out a protest. 

“I’m sorry Harry, I thought I grabbed from the sugar bowl.” 

Down the table, Harry heard someone else squeak and he and his friends turned to find Ginny, a few of her girlfriends pointing and laughing at her. 

“Someone swapped the sugar bowls for salt!” she declared, prompting several people to lean over and dip their fingers in the small bowls of sugar placed by the teapots. 

Ron laughed harder while several of Harry’s old classmates wrinkled their noses at the sharp bite of salt and Harry smiled so hard his cheeks hurt. 

 

Blaise was waiting at their usual table in potions and he smiled at Harry as he laid out his cauldron and ingredients. 

“What was that at the Gryffindor table this morning?” he asked and Harry chuckled quietly before answering. 

“Someone swapped out the sugar for salt as a prank and I fell for it,” he explained and Blaise huffed out a small laugh of his own. 

“Now that’s just mean. Students need their caffeine and sugar hit in the morning!” he declared and Harry laughed before falling quiet as Snape entered the room. 

The remainder of the lesson didn’t involve a whole lot of interaction between Harry and Blaise but a smile remained on Harry’s face throughout and he caught Professor Snape smiling approvingly in his direction a couple of times. His potion turned out the best it ever had and after the lesson, he bumped Blaise’s shoulder with his own before following the boy out of the classroom and to the Great Hall for lunch with the Slytherins. 

Ascending the stairs from the dungeons, Harry was almost to the top when he felt something curl around his ankle seconds before he was falling on his hands and knees the stones rough and hard below him. He heard Blaise mutter an oath behind him but ignored it to get up quickly and look around him in suspicion, reaching into his pocket to grip at his wand. 

“You alright, Harry?” Blaise asked as he noticed his friend had frozen with his hand in his pocket and his chest heaving with the effort to draw in a breath. 

“Harry?” he asked in concern as he stepped forward to place a hesitant hand on his friend's shoulder. 

Harry jumped back in shock and then winced as he jarred his bruised knees. 

“Fine,” he managed to choke out and when Blaise looked at him with an eyebrow raised reminiscent of Snape, Harry forced a smile onto his face. 

“I’m fine, Blaise, I just tripped over my lace or something." They both looked down to see that neither of Harry’s shoes was untied and Blaise raised his eyebrow higher. 

“Or something,” Harry pushed and then forced himself to move despite the dull ache spreading from his knees down his legs and the sting in his palms. “I’m just going to go wash my hands in the bathroom, get some of this stone out, and then I’ll see you at lunch.” 

Blaise looked like he wanted to argue but then seemed to change his mind and simply offered Harry a smile. 

“Alright, I’ll see you in there,” he finally replied and moments later Harry was alone in the corridor. He looked around quickly, then moved off in the direction of the toilets on this floor, then checked that it was empty before closing and locking the door. 

Slowly he slipped his hand out of his pocket, pulling out the small scrap of paper he’d felt in there nestled next to his wand. Not eager to open but feeling like he was obligated to, he unfolded it carefully. 

 

Next time you’ll be going down the stairs, boy-who-lived-to-murder 

 

Panicked he shoved the paper back into his pocket and wrung his hands together, eliciting a quick stinging across both his palms and causing him to look down. For a moment all he could see was blood covered palms and his heart started racing as grief set in. 

He stumbled backward until his back hit a wall and he fell down into squat, transfixed by the blood pooling in his palms and the rough sting that curling his fingers in elicited. Professor Snape found him five minutes later, still staring at his hands and still forcing each breath in and out in an effort to keep his panic attack at bay.


End file.
